Plum Dirty
by Dejah
Summary: Now Complete: Stephanie parts with Joe for the last time and decides to bite the bullet and tell Ranger what she really wants. Emotional mayhem ensues. Babe Short, Cupcake friendly, HEA, and there will be smut. Please R&R.
1. Chapter 1

**NOTE****: **This is my first Stephanie Plum fan fiction. In fact, it's the first original fan fiction I've written in probably eight years, give or take a year. I'm currently working on a novel, but I'm having some writers block and have been reading some of the amazing fan fiction on here lately and got inspired.

I don't know where this story is going, but I can tell you a few things that I've predetermined about it: It'll be short, no more than ten chapters. I don't have time for anything more involved than that. It's going to be pathos, which is a much better word than angst. Angst always makes me think of my early and cynical teen years and/or emo kids whining about life. It's Babe and will be HEA because I want Ranger like an obese kid at fat camp wants cake. Morelli is safe and won't be taking any beatings from me here. I actually love Joe. I just have a thing about cops in general and, that aside, don't think him and Steph could make it work in the real world.

I'd love to hear from you. And please, feel free to let me know if I've got any grammar flaws or whatever. I didn't have a beta go over this and only read through it twice before posting. Thanks.

**SPOILERS****:** Yeah, probably. But nothing will really be spelled out and I'm broke so have only read up to Thirteen and all the Diesel ones (mmm, Diesel).

**RATING**: There will be smut. There is definitely foul language. It could get bloody. We'll see.

**CHAPTER ONE:**

The man looked like him. Maybe an inch or two taller, fifteen pounds lighter, making him closer in bulk to Morelli than Ranger, but the resemblance was near uncanny. He had a diamond stud in each ear. His hair was slicked back, brushing his collar. He was dressed all in black, attractive, and Latino.

Stephanie was slim and pale, wearing a skirt that was four inches above her knees and slung low on her hips. Her shirt was a deconstructed number that was more holes than fabric, clinging to her breasts, baring her back and abdomen. Her hair hung heavy and damp, clinging to her forehead and her throat.

Her hands were holding those of her partner on her hips and, as he watched, she slowly dragged her fingers up her sides, skimming her ribs and then up to lift her hair off her neck, all the while gyrating and grinding against the man, sliding up and down the length of his body.

He saw her nearly every day at the building on Haywood Street. She came to work early every day and spent time on the gun range or in the gym, usually alternating every other day. Bobby had been teaching her hand-to-hand. She was careful choosing skips from Vinnie these days, staying within a reasonable difficulty level, but with the gym time and the other training the difficulty level had considerably risen. She hadn't _needed_ any back-up for a take-down in four months. He'd been counting.

Sometimes one of the guys would ride shotgun for her, and if it wasn't Lester, Bobby, or Woody it was Lula. She never did them completely on her own these days. She'd finally admitted it was too dangerous to trust to her luck the last time she'd gotten _un_lucky, catching a side full of buck-shot from a skip that wasn't getting picked up for anything more hardcore than a DUI. Even "easy" skips could be dangerous with a gun in their hand.

Ranger's fingers curled tight into his palms as he fisted his hands, watching Stephanie rub herself against the man that looked like him. The blacklight had turned her skin to blue porcelain, shimmering with sweat. Her expression, eyes closed, lips parted, was pure sex. He'd always thought she looked good, even when she was self-conscious about a little roll hanging over the top of her jeans. Right now she was looking like five-feet six-inches of toned hormonal destruction.

_Where had she gotten abs?_ he asked himself. And her arms. _Christ_.

As the DJ brought down the volume and put on something a little smoother for a short break, Ranger watched as Stephanie stepped away from her dance partner. Her arms dropped to her side and she spun to face him on what looked like four-inch fuck-me-pumps. The man reached for her hips again, his lips mouthing words that made Ranger want to kill him, trying to pull her against his chest. She brushed his hands away, taking another step back, shaking her head.

"No." Ranger could see her lips forming the word and even from his position on the balcony he could see that her face was blank. It was the face she'd been using on him for the past six months. It was his face. Emotionless. Inscrutable. She wasn't supposed to be fucking inscrutable to him.

The other man's face wasn't blank. Something dark flashed over his expression as Stephanie fended off his hands. Ranger tensed, ready to vault the railing. The dance floor was sunken into the center of the club, putting it fifteen feet below him, but there was a rise around the edge. He could land on that, only eleven feet down, roll to his feet, and plant his fist in the other man's face in about six seconds.

He didn't have to. Stephanie stepped up, her hands in front of her chest, and using the force of her weight and momentum she double-palmed her dance partner in the sternum and he fell back, stumbling into the people milling around the dance floor behind him. Someone stopped his backward sprawl and he was about to go after her again, but Stephanie wasn't done with him. Her hand flashed out, tight, controlled, and the back of her fist collided hard with the man's jaw. He went down like a ton of bricks. Ranger almost winced when he saw the man's head bounce on the dance floor.

A moment later Steph had the stiletto of her heal pressed against his throat. Ranger couldn't see if she said anything to the man, who was just staring up at her in the circle of people watching, his hands palms up complacently.

Stephanie stepped back, one, two, three steps and then turned and sauntered off the dance floor. Ranger tailed her movements from above as she approached the coat check where she was handed a black purse and a black leather jacket in exchange for a ticket she pulled from between her breasts inside her shirt.

There was a sharp intake of breath from somewhere and it took Ranger a moment to realize it was his own at the thought of her breasts under the thin fabric of her shirt, slick and pale. He knew what they tasted like and how they looked; perfect vanilla globes topped with creamed-coffee nipples. His pants were already tight across the seam, the zipper digging painfully into his erection caused by Stephanie's erotic dance. He had to admit the beating she'd given her dance partner was partly to blame, as well.

_You're fuckin' sick, Manoso_, he derided himself.

Moving quickly, he descended the stairs, not wanting her to get too far out of sight. He had to make sure she got to her car safely. A quick glance from the bottom of the steps assured him that the dance partner was just starting to drag himself to his feet; or rather, getting dragged to his feet by one of the club's many bouncers.

He moved close to the wall, moving rapidly towards the main exit and saw Stephanie duck out of the club as she pulled on her jacket. He could see her keys in her hand. _Smart, Babe_, he thought. There was a kubaton and a small can of defense spray on her key chain, precautions he'd pressed on her ages past. She hadn't argued, just pulled her keys from the thigh pocket of her cargos and wordlessly attached them to the large ring.

That had been the Monday after he'd fucked everything up. He hadn't known if she'd come to work after what had happened the previous Friday.

#

_**Six Months Earlier**_

Ranger heard the door of his apartment open and tensed up, reaching for his Glock where it rested on the counter near the tray of food Ella had left for him. No one had called up to say they were coming.

The door closed quietly and he heard it lock. He relaxed as he recognized the light tread of Stephanie's step on the plush carpeting. She come breezing into the kitchen, eyes sparkling and a carefree smile on her face.

"Yo," he greeted her, blank face firmly in place. He knew it drove her nuts and half the time he did it just to work her nerves and not because he felt like he had to hide his feelings from her.

Her hair was a riot of curls, her cheeks flushed and pink, and her lashes were coated in what had to be three applications of mascara. She looked like she'd just climbed out of bed. _Or_, he corrected himself, stamping down on jealousy, _her Miata with the top down after a drive_.

"Yo, yourself," she replied. She pulled open the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water.

The sight of her throat working to swallow the water as she tipped back her head made him think of thousand-count bed sheets, silky skin, and soft lips.

Stephanie wiped her mouth off with the sleeve of her cobalt sweater. He could tell she was trying to mask her emotions but they were flashing over her face obvious as the digital readout of a news station's ticker tape. Fear, excitement, hope, doubt... One after another, a whole slew of feelings warring with and against each other.

Her eyes were locked on his face, searching his blank expression. He wanted to ask her something simple. Maybe an easy, 'What's up?' but he waited to see what she'd do instead.

The eyebrow he raised clearly said, "Spit it out."

Her fingers were toying with the edge of the water bottle's label, peeling off little pieces that she twisted and rolled in her fingers.

With a breath that was almost a gasp she placed the water bottle on the counter and took a step toward him.

"I left Joe," she'd said finally, breaking the tense silence. Her shoulders rose a bit at that, as if she were taking courage from her own voice.

Ranger had continued to gaze at her impassively as she waited for his reply. "Left him where?" Ranger had asked finally.

Stephanie made a cutting motion with her hand, slicing it through the air in a gesture of finality. "_Left_ him," she clarified. "Forever." There was a steady tone of finality in her voice.

The emotions on her face had shifted. There was still hope, and fear, but there was expectation there too. She took another step toward him, her hand reaching out for his arm. Her fingers landed just above his wrist, pressing delicately.

"On-again, off-again," he heard himself say and wondered where the hell that had come from.

Confusion pulled her brows together, tightened the corners of her mouth. She shook her head in the negative. "No. Just off."

Her hand slid off his arm and she turned back to the counter, retrieving her water bottle. When she faced him again her imitation of his blank face was in place and it was almost perfect. She took a long draw of the water and his gaze fixed on her mouth. He couldn't help it.

They were both silent for a moment, watching each other. Finally she let out a ragged sigh.

"It couldn't work between us. He wants the 'Burg wife. I want to jump off the garage roof with my arms spread wide." A little smile twisted up one corner of her mouth. She reached up and pinched the bridge of her nose as if she felt a headache coming on.

"It went alright, actually. I did it at Pino's." She gestured vaguely to what looked like little flecks of pizza sauce on her sweater. "I thought he was going to flip."

"Didn't he?" Ranger asked. He couldn't imagine Morelli giving Stephanie up without a fight. A loud, screaming, Italian temper fight with plenty of arm flailing and insults about her inadequacies as a bounty hunter and her relationship with him.

A little laugh bubbled out of her and he couldn't help the slight tilt of his own lips at the sound. "I thought he would," she replied. "That's why I did it at a public place instead of his house or my apartment. He clenched his beer bottle so tight I thought it would explode, but then he just sort of slumped into his seat and the moment of explosion passed.

"He asked me if I was sure. He said he loved me. I told him I loved him too, and that this didn't mean I didn't want us to be on good terms, but I couldn't be what he wanted. He wants a 'Burg wife, and if that's what he wants it's what he deserves." She shuddered. "God, I can't cook and I don't want to. I sure as hell don't want kids that don't double as hamsters. And the ring- Well, the ring at this point is completely negotiable."

Again she approached him. She reached past him to place her bottle on the counter then rested her hands on his biceps. Her eyes darkened and she swallowed convulsively. "Ranger," she said quietly. "I don't want to be with Joe."

Her meaning was clear. She wanted _him_.

Male satisfaction and a sense of victory warred with his hard-built defenses. His life didn't lend itself to relationships. He'd told her he loved her in his own way. He'd told her his love came with a condom, not a ring. And then he'd pursued her.

Stolen kisses. Spooning in her bed and sometimes his. The time he'd spent at her apartment while they'd tracked Scrog.

He'd wanted to come striding out of her bathroom naked, gun in hand, to shoot Morelli when he'd interrupted them that day that she'd been ready to give herself to him again. The day he'd stripped away all her defenses and morals concerning cheating with his hands and his mouth. He'd had her moaning under him and then the locks had tumbled. Because Morelli had a key. Because she belonged to Morelli, even if Ranger felt like she belonged to him.

And now she was standing in front of him, free of Morelli forever, her hands on his arms and love on her face and in her eyes.

If he wasn't so sure of himself he would have thought it was panic he was feeling. And in that instant that he shoved the twisting in his gut away something else reared up inside him. He realized now that the something was a lie.

He took her wrists in his hands, his skin dark to her pale, and he'd gently pushed her away from him.

His voice was blank as he heard himself say, "I'm proud of you, Babe." He released her and her hands dropped limp to her sides.

The expression on her face in that moment was as if he'd struck her. He _felt_ like he'd struck her. There was a level of devastation in her eyes that said she'd just watched someone she loved die a horrible death. Tears flooded her eyes and she turned away from him on a sob.

He didn't move as she rushed out of the kitchen. He heard her wrestle with the lock on the door, heard it swing open but not closed, and then the slam of the stairwell door.

Ranger told himself that was the way it had to be. That he didn't want her like that. That he only loved her in his own way and that way was- he didn't know what it was. But he wouldn't allow himself to believe it was the kind of love that he'd seen in her face just before he'd figuratively kicked her legs out from beneath her.

The weekend had slipped past and on Monday he saw her on the monitors coming into the RangeMan garage, uniform on, her Sig P228 on her belt, a duffle on her shoulder, almost two hours early. She'd taken the elevator to the underground gun range and had proceeded to unload three clips at the paper targets.

He watched Lester approach her and listened to their conversation. Her voice and expression were neutral. Lester offered to give her some pointers and she accepted.

When her shift was ready to start, she reloaded her gun and put it back in the holster on her belt, thanked Lester, and went up to five where she'd gone right to work.

He called her into his office and gave her the defense spray and the kubaton for her keychain. She took it, asked if there was anything else, and returned to her cube when he said that would be all.

Six months of this and they'd hardly said more than a sentence to each other at a time, always work related, both of them affecting the blank face and the emotionless voice. Ranger found himself hating it viciously. He battled a case of Cuban temper that hadn't shown itself since his days as a young hood on the streets of Trenton years before. He wanted to see her emotions obvious as a parade strolling across her face.

He knew she wasn't blank with all the guys. The Merry Men, as he'd heard her call them. They'd even started referring to themselves that way while they called her a variety of names. Lester called her Beautiful. Bobby called her Bomber. Woody called her Darlin'. They all referred to her as Bombshell. She had them all wrapped around her little finger and seemed completely oblivious to the fact.

They took her out for pizza, pool, and beer whenever they went as a group and she never turned them down. He tried to act like he didn't care that she was spending a good chunk of her free time with his men and would sit in his office, checking reports and monitoring the various accounts, but he always found himself bringing up the GPS to see if anyone's car sat next to hers all night in the parking lot of her apartment building.

Sometimes one of the guy's cars would sit next to hers, or would travel there alone, letting him know she was accepting a ride. Usually it would leave after a moment. Sometimes it would stay for close to an hour, maybe a little more, but then it would leave and he knew that Stephanie was alone in her apartment, listening to Rex run a stationary marathon.

And now he was stalking her, like one of the sick fucks that she seemed to be preternaturally plagued with. Since she'd started working for RangeMan almost full time and was being careful with her skips she hadn't had so much as a flat tire, but he still couldn't stop watching her. He had to know she was safe.

He had to know if she was seeing someone else.

Just a month before he'd watched the little blip that was her cruise to Morelli's house. Wanting to prove to himself that sending her away was the right thing to do, that she still wanted the cop, he'd cruised to Slater and parked two blocks down on the opposite side of the street from Morelli's house.

The upstairs was dark but the lower level was lit. Her car was parked behind Morelli's SUV. He'd sat in his Porche, staring at the windows for what seemed like hours but the clock told him was only thirty minutes.

Curiosity and jealousy gnawing at him like rats, he'd slipped out of his car and positioned himself across the street where he could see through Morelli's picture window.

Stephanie had stood, obviously leaving the couch in front of the television. She had what looked like plates and beer bottles in her hands. She'd passed out of sight towards the kitchen and then returned a moment later, carrying two more beers. She'd dropped back down onto the couch.

Ranger continued to watch, melting back into the shadows of a huge rhododendron. Two hours crept by and then Stephanie had come back outside, Joe at her back. They'd hugged, laughing and joking, but it was obviously strictly platonic. Morelli had dropped a kiss on her forehead and she'd patted his cheek affectionately before padding down the front steps to the sidewalk. Morelli had disappeared inside.

As Stephanie moved toward her Miata she'd suddenly gone still and then had ducked down beside the car. His babe was aware she was being watched and had taken cover. He felt pride that she'd finally started to become more aware of her surroundings but sad that his presence was what triggered defensive action.

When she'd come back into sight it was with her gun in her hand. Morelli's door had flown open and the cop had appeared, holding his police issue. He called to Stephanie and she ran up the steps, disappearing back into the house.

Ranger took the opportunity to get back in his car and drove away. Back at Haywood the GPS told him that Stephanie only stayed at Joe's for another half hour before she'd gone home.

#

_**Present**_

Jersey was hot. The heat from the day was heavy and trapped by a storm system rolling in from the coast and the smog that gave Jersey its own greenhouse effect.

Ranger slipped out of the club, keeping Stephanie in sight and himself out of it.

She crossed the parking lot toward her Miata on steady legs, her keys jingling in her hand. She seemed completely unaware of her surroundings and he scanned the dark, looking for anyone that might try to hurt her, mentally upbraiding her for her carelessness.

Stephanie moved to the far side of her car to reach the driver's side, stooped as if to key open the door and then dropped and slid to the left, reappearing with her pistol in her hand, aiming it in Ranger's direction over the hood of her car.

Ranger froze, hidden in shadow between a massive Dodge pick-up truck and an Escalade. He knew she couldn't see him but she was well under cover and aiming almost directly at him.

Neither of them spoke for a long, tense moment. He waited for her to call out for him to step into the light and reveal himself. The seconds ticked by and then Stephanie stood. Her shoulders were a little slumped and she pushed a hand through her damp hair as she dropped the Sig into her purse.

He thought she'd decided no one was in the shadows watching her but gave a start when she called out, "Stop following me, Ranger. Get another fucking hobby."

With that she climbed behind the wheel of her car, locked the door and started the engine. Her headlights flashed on and she pulled out, illuminating him where he stood but not looking at him before pulling out onto the road and disappearing toward the 'Burg.

Ranger stared after her diminishing taillights feeling like he'd been caught with his hand in the cookie jar and then kicked in the gut for his trouble.

"Babe."


	2. Chapter 2

**NOTE****:** I want to start with a huge, resounding thank you to everyone that left me feedback. I didn't post the first chapter until 6am PST and by the time I woke up at 11am I already had six reviews. If I haven't written you personally to thank you, please know that I am grateful and that your feedback is deeply appreciated. This is certainly the best return for my effort I've received on a fan fiction story in a very, very long time.

Secondly, I've already started on the third chapter, and who knows, maybe I'll have it finished tonight. I hope you don't mind that chapter two rehashes some of chapter one's content, but I figured Stephanie had a right to speak for herself.

Again, pathos, pathos, pathos.

Once more, I'm a whore for your love (or even hate, because I'm sick like that), and your reviews fuel the creative monster. Feel free to point out mistakes, grammatical or otherwise. I try to edit my own stuff, but I'm in too much of a hurry to wait for a beta to go through it.

If I catch any minor typos or grammatical errors, I'll be fixing them and uploading the corrections. If you've been kind enough to add me to your Author Alerts and you're getting bombarded with UPDATE notices that aren't new chapters, please know that they are not major changes to the chapter, merely corrections. The text will not be changing.

**SPOILERS****:** Twelve Sharp references.

**RATING****:** This is a kiddie free zone. While this chapter is free of smut, adult situations and dirty language abound. I'm not sorry.

**CHAPTER TWO:**

Stephanie wanted to pull over to the side of the road. Her breath was gasping in and out of her open mouth and she wasn't sure if she wanted to pull over to sob uncontrollably or to throw open her door and revisit her dinner with a bout of gut-wrenching vomiting.

The blank face was her first defense, but it was really starting to wear thin. Learning to use it effectively had been like putting herself through emotional boot camp but she'd finally managed it. Convincingly, she liked to think, and it was with no small amount of satisfaction that she turned it on Ranger full force every time they came face-to-face. It was doubly satisfying when she could see his own blank face slipping when confronted with hers. You'd have to know Ranger well to see the slip but it was there, in the minute clenching of his jaw, the tension around his eyes, the polished cadence of his voice.

It had always intrigued her the way he would slide between 'Ghetto Ranger' and 'CEO Ranger'. She got the feeling that he was really a cross between the two and that the extremes were just another way to keep those around him guessing. The whole fucking Man of Mystery bit.

With a face-twisting grimace she acknowledged that her blank face routine wasn't the only thing wearing thin.

_Who the hell does he think he is?_ she snarled mentally. What the fuck did he think he was doing, following her around, poking his nose into her private life when he'd made it perfectly clear that there was no place in his for her?

This wasn't the first time she'd caught him at it, either. Far from it, in fact. She rarely spotted him at it, but the tingling in the back of her neck that indicated she was being watched was only accompanied by a flood of warmth straight to her doodah when Ranger was the perpetrator. _Fuckin' mutinous hormones_, she cursed and reached for her iPod.

Stephanie rolled to a stop at a red light and chose a playlist from the screen. It was titled Fuck Ranger and it managed to fuel her anger while simultaneously calming her down. She'd found her own way into the 'zone' and it was often a result of her battered emotions that were constantly riding The Batman rollercoaster that was her relationship, or lack thereof, with Ranger.

Woody had introduced her to death metal after a late night of pizza and beer with the Merry Men five months back. Being surrounded by hard bodies dressed in black had been a little too much for her strained emotions that night and she'd managed to down most of a pitcher of beer. It was a well known fact that Stephanie didn't hold her liquor, malt or otherwise, particularly well.

"You need a ride, Darlin'," Woody had said as she stumbled coming out of Pino's, almost tumbling down the steps. Woody had probably drunk as much as her, but being built like a brick wall obviously gave you a little more to work with. He took her elbow and led her to a black RangeMan Bronco. Lester and Bobby climbed into the back as Woody opened the passenger side door and helped her up into the seat.

"I'll have one of the guys bring your car home when I get back to RangeMan," he said, climbing in beside her.

Woody radiated southern gentleman, so it was a bit of a shock that he had some band called God Dethroned blasting out of the stereo system. Part classically fueled melody blended with eat-your-face lyrics growled at pounding volumes were a combination Stephanie wouldn't have expected to like, but it seemed to fit her mood perfectly.

The next day at work, Stephanie had asked Woody to give her the names of any other similar bands and had proceeded to sample as many as she could find. Her iPod was now bursting with bands that had names like Cannibal Corpse and Necrophagist. It made Godsmack sound like Brittany Spears.

Tonight was the first time she'd acknowledged she knew he was following her around, at least to him. She'd been oh-so careful not to let her eyes drag over his body like a caress as her headlights had picked him up out of the dark. She laughed viciously to herself at the memory of his expression as she'd pulled away. He looked like he'd been kicked in the balls, blank expression nowhere in sight.

Stephanie was tempted to disable the LoJack tracker she knew was affixed to her car somewhere. She'd been around at RangeMan long enough now to know what she was looking for, but the trouble just seemed like too much. As soon as she went back to work she would either be ordered directly to reactivate it or it would just _magically_ turn itself back on before she left for home. It was with small consolation that she'd learned all the guys had one on their private vehicles.

Ranger wasn't supposed to be using it to track her for his own personal reasons, however, and the invasion of her privacy was irksome. And, she admitted mentally, she hated herself for the little voice in her head that reveled and said, 'He can't let you go.'

#

_**Six Months Earlier**_

"Shit, Cupcake. Am I _supposed_ to be feeling relieved?"

Stephanie chuckled and reached for Joe's hand, threading her fingers with his. She turned her head to look up at him and smiled. "Yes."

Joe looked down at her and his smile matched her own. "Good, 'cause I do. I'll admit that I thought I was going to have a coronary for a second there, but it seemed more like habit than anything else."

They were standing in Pino's parking lot, leaning against her Miata, and it was the last time Stephanie could remember feeling hopeful about her love life.

"Seems to be the theme of our relationship. I don't want to be anyone's habit, Joe. And I certainly don't want you to be mine. I think we're both worth more than that."

Joe released her hand and wrapped his arm around Stephanie's shoulders, pulling her tight against his side. She settled against him and it was the first time in a long time he'd touched her without it causing anxiety to curl in her belly. She looped her arm around his waist.

"I am going to miss the hot sweaty monkey sex, though," he mused thoughtfully and she laughed outright.

"Yeah, it was pretty fucking amazing," she agreed.

They sobered and Joe's arm tightened slightly before he said, "Are you going to tell him?"

Stephanie didn't try to pretend she didn't know what he was talking about. They were finally over and she was done lying, to him and herself. She considered her next words for a moment, though, before answering.

"Yes," she started, drawing the word out slowly. She sucked in a harsh breath and pressed her face against Joe's chest. "But I'm terrified. Ranger doesn't _do_ relationships."

Joe stiffened slightly. "Then what the fuck has he been trying to accomplish all this time? He wants you, but not enough to have you? That sounds like bullshit. I've seen the way he looks at you."

"With the blank face?" she queried, only slightly sarcastic.

A quick maneuver had Stephanie facing Joe. He tipped her chin up with a finger and met her gaze shrewdly. "No, like he's a starving man and you're the best meal anyone ever offered him. Like he'd take bullets or invade foreign countries for you."

Stephanie knew Ranger would take bullets for her. The incident with Scrog in her apartment was still fresh in her mind even after all these months after the fact. She was hoping it was more than loyalty and friendship that had prompted him to do it. More than his responsibility toward Julie. There was something that she wanted Joe to be sure of, though, before she went to Ranger at all.

"Joe, I want you to know I'm not leaving you for him. That this isn't about me jumping from a relationship with you into one with Ranger. I'm doing this for us; to give _us_ a chance to find what we're both looking for."

He smiled and pushed a stray curl behind her ear, his eyes tender. "I know, Cupcake. I'm just glad you had the guts to do it. I don't think I would have." His expression sobered and he narrowed his eyes. "But don't change the subject."

Stephanie groaned and let her forehead drop against Joe's chest. "I don't know what I'm doing!" she moaned.

Joe's strong arms wrapped around her in a tight hug and she hugged him back. She felt his mouth against her hair and tightened her arms. "I wouldn't worry about it, Cupcake. The man would be a fucking idiot to turn you away."

#

Stephanie drove straight to the RangeMan building on Haywood after parting with Morelli at Pino's. Her hands were sweating and the cashmere of her sweater was clinging to her skin.

She pulled into the parking garage, careful to park her car so that the guys in the control room wouldn't be able to see her too clearly while she tried to pull herself together.

It was February but she'd had the top of her Miata down as she drove to try and keep the nervous sweat she was in from ruining her outfit all together. Fumbling nervously in the contents of her purse, she pulled out a stick of deodorant and quickly swiped her under arms. She flipped down her visor and checked her face. Her cheeks were flushed from the cold air and her hair was tousled, but it didn't look bad. Her mascara, three coats for courage, was perfect and her blue eyes were bright.

A quick swipe of minty pink lip gloss over her mouth and she was as ready as she was going to be.

Shooting a little finger wave at the camera, Stephanie boarded the elevator and waved her key fob in front of the sensor while hitting the button for the seventh floor.

Ranger's apartment was quiet as she let herself in, locking the door behind her and dropping her purse and keys on the sideboard.

She could see light coming from the kitchen and, after a deep breath, headed in that direction.

Ranger was leaning against the counter, his gun and a plate of sandwiches at his elbow, muscular arms folded across his chest. The trademark blank look was firmly in place.

"Yo," he said by way of greeting and she smiled at him. He looked good enough to eat in his tight black t-shirt and SWAT cargos. He must have just come upstairs because he was still wearing his gun belt and boots.

"Yo, yourself," she answered and fetched herself a bottle of water, trying to gain a moment.

Now that she was here the words didn't seem to want to come out. She couldn't even think of what to say.

Maybe she would try for seduction. 'Ranger,' she'd breathe, pressing herself against him. 'I'm a free woman. Take me now.' The thought conjured a ridiculous image of her wearing a Joyce Barnhardt-esque outfit and she had to fight the urge to shoot water out of her nose on a laugh as she took a long swallow.

The silence stretched out and when Ranger lifted a brow at her she knew it was all she was going to get out of him and decided to press forward.

She put her water bottle on the counter, took a deep breath, and dived in, saying the first thing that jumped to her lips. "I left Joe."

_There, that wasn't so hard_, she thought. Neutral, to the point, and best part, getting it out of the way boosted her courage for the next phase. She felt a weight lift off her shoulders.

Fear and doubt were having a raging fist fight with hope and excitement in her chest as his face remained impassive.

"Left him where?" he asked finally.

Stephanie sliced the air with her hand. "_Left_ him. Forever."

The tension was killing her and she had to touch him. Usually Ranger was physical with her, even if it was just a brush of his fingertips against her cheek or his hand resting on the back of her neck.

The blank face and expressionless voice were getting to her. She closed the distance between them and reached out, placing her hand on his forearm. His skin was warm over the rock hard muscle, the fine hairs tickling her fingers. There was no reaction to her touch. She could smell him and all she wanted was for him to pull her up against his chest. To give her his thinking-of-smiling smile.

"On-again, off-again," he said and his voice was a dead thing.

Confusion rippled through her. What was going on? He was rarely ever this cold with her, and with her hopes high it was starting to really scare her.

Stephanie shook her head slightly. "No. Just off." She let her hand slide off his arm, retreated back to the counter across from him to retrieve her water bottle. She took a long pull from the open top, wishing it was something stronger. A beer or a shot of whiskey. Something to drown the albatross taking off in her stomach.

She used the moment to gather herself, attempting the blank face. She'd never admit it to anyone, but she'd been practicing it in the mirror. She'd think about all the things that tended to make her emotional, even things that would make her cry, and would force them behind a distant expression. It felt like it was coming easier, but trying it on Ranger was more difficult than it would ever be on a skip or her mother.

A ragged sigh dragged out of her and she met his eyes again. "It couldn't work between us. He wants the 'Burg wife. I want to jump off the garage roof with my arms spread wide." She couldn't keep her lips from smiling at the thought but a stress headache was trying to bring her down and she gave in, rubbing at the tension between her brows.

"It went alright, actually," she continued. "I did it at Pino's." Eating fanatic that she was, she'd managed to splatter herself with some pizza sauce and she gestured at it vaguely. "I thought he was going to flip."

"Didn't he?"

She laughed at the memory, encouraged by the twitch of his lips. "I thought he would," she replied. "That's why I did it at a public place instead of his house or my apartment. He clenched his beer bottle so tight I thought it would explode, but then he just sort of slumped into his seat and the moment of explosion passed.

"He asked me if I was sure. He said he loved me. I told him I loved him too, and that this didn't mean I didn't want us to be on good terms, but I couldn't be what he wanted. He wants a 'Burg wife, and if that's what he wants it's what he deserves." The thought of settling for an existence that scared the bejesus out of her brought out a shudder she couldn't repress. "God, I can't cook and I don't want to. I sure as hell don't want kids that don't double as hamsters. And the ring- Well, the ring at this point is completely negotiable."

It was time to shit or get off the pot, she decided and approached him swiftly before her courage could abandon her. She moved close and leaned around him to place her water bottle next to his Glock before putting her hands on his folded arms. He seemed relaxed but she felt the slight tightening of his muscles beneath her fingers. He was so gorgeous and the smell of his Bulgari mixed with that subtle scent that was all Ranger was intoxicating, making her control slip.

Stephanie locked her eyes with his, feeling the intensity of his stare. His eyes were almost black and she swallowed. "Ranger," she said and her voice was barely above a whisper. "I don't want to be with Joe."

Short of saying, 'I love you more than birthday cake and don't ever want to be with anyone else,' Stephanie was sure she'd made her point pretty clear. She waited expectantly, her breath frozen in her lungs.

A moment dragged by achingly slow and when his face remained blank and he finally moved, taking her wrists in his hands, she felt dread fist around her heart, squeezing until she wasn't even sure it was beating anymore.

Ranger pushed her backward, away from him, very gently, his hands firm on her wrists. Queen of Denial, she focused for a moment on the contrast of his skin on hers, dark on light.

"I'm proud of you, Babe."

Blank face. Blank voice. He released her wrists and she couldn't stop her hands from dropping lifelessly to her sides.

_This is what getting kicked by a horse feels like_, she thought and knew her face was probably mirroring the feeling. _No_, she corrected, _this is what watching Ranger get shot felt like, except instead of taking two to the vest and a few flesh wounds it was like watching the bullet hit him right between the eyes_.

This was watching her family fed into a wood chipper. She was going to throw up. Or pass out. Maybe have an aneurism and die on the spot.

Black dots swam in front of her vision. The pizza and beer she'd shared with Joe was rolling in her stomach like a ship in a maelstrom. The black dots and Ranger's impassive face swam in a sea of tears and Stephanie couldn't contain the sudden sob that came out on a choking breath.

She ran, barely coherent enough to grab her purse and keys on her way to the door. She slammed into it with her shoulder, fumbling desperately with the locks and almost fell into the hallway beyond. The elevator doors were closed and strangely menacing. She couldn't wait.

Gasping, gagging, Stephanie threw open the door to the stairwell and took the stairs two, three at a time, jumping while clutching the rail. Some distant part of brain was desperately hoping none of the guys in the control room were ones she knew well. It was late enough that her usual Merry Men were probably on four in their studios or in their own homes somewhere else. She didn't want to run into anyone and worried if she did that they'd break their necks when she plowed into them.

She hardly remembered getting to the garage and wasn't even aware of it until she came up hard on the asphalt, tripping over her own feet as she crashed through the door. Her hands stung from the fall but she scrambled to her feet, desperate to be away.

She wasn't sure at that point what was worse; Ranger coming after her or Ranger just letting her leave.

Stephanie could feel her mouth was wide open in a soundless scream and tears were falling freely from her eyes. She had her keys in her hand and somehow managed to get the right one in the driver's side lock. She was hitting the button on her key fob desperately as she started the car, willing the gate to open, and she tore out of the garage onto Haywood Street like Satan himself was cracking the whip at her heals.

It was an appropriate comparison. Stephanie felt like a piece of herself, the best part, was sentenced to an eternity of torture in the darkest corner of hell.

#

She really didn't get it. The worst she'd expected was for Ranger to remind her he didn't do romantic relationships and she would have to accept that friendship, and enough sexual tension to choke a hippo, were all he could offer her.

Stephanie didn't do casual sex, but it had become blaringly obvious that what she did and didn't do often walked a thin line where Ranger was concerned.

Her love for him was like the blazing heat of a million suns, and when she'd watched him fall beneath the barrage of Scrog's bullets, it had felt like her heart was being torn from her chest. If he died, she thought she would too, with or without Joe trying to pull her together.

Finding he was going to fully recover had been like having a defibrillator jump start her dying heart. And then he'd ripped it out of her. He'd shut her out completely with one simple phrase, one that usually warmed her, and a little push from his hands.

Admitting that she wanted him, a _relationship_ with him, had caused him to exact a death sentence on their entire personal relationship. She couldn't think about it without getting nauseous.

She struggled to remind herself that it wasn't her fault. She refused to blame herself for being honest about what she wanted. Accepting the consequences of that honesty was almost more than she could bare, but by the morning after Ranger had rejected her, she had a plan to get on with her life.

A life without Ranger.

The desire to wallow in bed had been strong come Saturday morning. Maybe she'd cry until noon and then stuff herself with TastyKakes for the remainder of the day while watching Ghostbusters on loop.

That plan had plenty of appeal, but the heartbreak had stoked a fire somewhere inside of her that wasn't ready to lay down and die.

Stephanie hadn't lied when she'd told Joe she hadn't left him for Ranger. She'd left him so they could both pursue what they wanted without getting in each other's way. She'd left him because she loved him and didn't want to lose him completely. His friendship was too valuable to her for her to risk losing it because they couldn't stop fighting about what the other wouldn't concede.

So that was okay. It was time to do as Ranger did and compartmentalize her emotions and deal with the issues that were in her power.

First off, she didn't want to quit her job at RangeMan. The benefits were too good and her growing friendships with her co-workers were going to be important to keeping her head on straight. Not to mention that the money was good and steady and she hadn't had to scrounge for rent or food money since she'd started working there.

If she was going to continue working for Ranger, she was going to have to get her blank face fully up to par because right now, it was seriously lacking.

There was only one way she could think of to really make it work. Not denial. Acceptance.

Dragging herself out of bed, she stumbled wearily into the bathroom feeling like she had a hangover from the night spent sobbing into her pillow and she forced herself to meet her own gaze in the mirror.

Not pretty. Her hair was everywhere. Three coats of mascara had turned her into Roscoe the Raccoon and her eyes were puffy and red. Scowling at her reflection, she whipped a brush through her hair and tied the whole mess back into a knot on the back of her head. She scrubbed her face and brushed her teeth.

Then, battling nausea and dread, Stephanie confronted the entire horrible ordeal and any others she could think of that had ever made her angry or hurt. Her emotions were so close to the surface it didn't take more than a moment for everything to begin welling up once more, threatening to choke her. She let it all come, let the dread and the horror and the terrible pain fill her completely, and then she locked a little of it away.

Beneath the surface it was all there, but little by little she managed to school her features into a blank mask. She forced herself to confront it all, accept that it was there, and cover it up.

By Monday morning she felt like she'd been hit by a train, but there was a distance from the pain that she couldn't even remember having actually achieved at any point in her life. Yes, the pain was real, and it was there, and it was terrible. But no one else had to see it.

The first week had been punctuated with carefully concealed crying jags in the bathroom. She stocked up on eye serum to battle her perpetually swollen eyes and enough Visine to keep Mooner and Dougie looking sober for a year. She went through mascara at an alarming rate. But no one saw. No one knew.

Another week dragged by, and then a month. She threw herself into getting in shape. If she was going to continue working as a bounty hunter for Vinnie and doing distraction jobs for Ranger, she needed to start taking the whole experience more seriously.

Joe had been right. She didn't have any applicable skills. She'd been flying by the seat of her pants, depending on Ranger to bail her out of the big messes and her luck for what little success she managed.

The cops had a number of betting pools based on her misadventures and she knew that no one was ever surprised to see her haul in a pathetic excuse for a criminal looking like she'd been dragged through a dumpster.

There were plenty of resources available to her and if she would just pull her head out of her ass, she figured she could turn into an effective BEA and reduce her comic relief status to a minimum. Making people laugh was great. Being laughed at was another matter entirely.

Two months into her training regime she still hated her gun and wasn't particularly enthused to use it on anyone, but she wasn't afraid of it. Lester assured her a respect for her weapon and the damage it could inflict on others or herself was perfectly healthy. Being afraid of it was not. It was a tool, its purpose to help her protect herself and others. Nothing more, nothing less.

She took to wearing it on her belt at all times. She put cookies in her cookie jar and her gun on her bedside table.

Bobby made it his personal mission to teach her self-defense that went beyond hitting someone with her purse or kneeing a guy in the nuts. He often recruited other Merry Men to the cause and it was pretty satisfying for her to execute disabling moves on guys that would put Schwarzenegger to shame.

As her skill level increased and her fitness improved, so did her confidence. Maintaining the blank face became easier every day, and after a long heart-to-heart with Mary Lou, the pain receded to take up residence somewhere in the back of her heart where it couldn't creep up on her quite as quickly.

At that point she had a jarring realization that having skill still didn't make her immune to blatant stupidity. It was a realization she had while laying flat on her back in a skip's front yard, bleeding from the buckshot spray she hadn't been able to avoid when she dove for cover after the ominous ratchet of a shotgun had sounded from the other side of the door.

Her favorite leather jacket had been destroyed but she figured it was a fair trade for it having taken the brunt of the damage.

Her favorite Merry Men made appearances during the two days she was laid up in a hospital bed, bringing her flowers, chocolates, and Lester, bless his heart, brought her three boxes of Butterscotch Krimpets.

It was Lester that sat next to her when Ranger came to check on her, maintaining the same emotional distance he did when one of his men was injured. She'd been surprised at how easy it was to maintain the blank face even as her heart ached for him. She wanted to hold out her hand and have him come to her, gather her to his chest, and kiss her face in the tender way she remembered so poignantly. But he didn't reach for her and she didn't hold out her hand. He left the room and she smiled at Lester, leisurely eating her TastyKake even as a hole opened up beneath her and swallowed another piece of her heart.

Chalking the whole thing up to learning experience, Stephanie decided it wasn't overkill to always wear a flak vest on take-downs, to stand to the side of a door after she'd announced herself, or to make sure she always had adequate back up. Wonderfully, she hadn't been shot since. Certainly shot at, but not wounded. She hadn't had any more destroyed cars. She let the Merry Men handle the big cases and took a depraved pleasure in thwarting Joyce Barnhardt's attempts to bring in skips again and again.

Except for the gaping, ragged hole in her heart, life was pretty good.

Even her friendship with Joe was satisfying. They didn't fight and it turned out Joe was almost as good at friendship as he was in bed. Go figure.

Now if she could only shut up her mother life would be somewhere in the ballpark of bearable.

#

_**Present**_

The light turned green and Stephanie continued through the intersection, death metal blaring out of her speakers. She didn't turn it off until she pulled into the parking lot of her apartment building, resigned to parking in the spot across the lot near the dumpster.

She doubted the ancient inhabitants of her concrete block building would hear anything short of her car exploding, but there were a few young families in the building that might not want their teeth rattled out.

The days of being stalked by any number of crazies seemed to be behind her, but Stephanie had adopted a better-safe-than-sorry mentality and she pulled her stun gun, fully charged, out of her purse before stepping out of the car and locking it carefully behind her. She scanned the parking lot for out of place cars as she crossed to the lobby, holding her car keys in her left hand and the stun gun in her right.

Lately she'd been good about taking the stairs, but the FMP's on her feet gave her a good enough excuse to board the elevator and she relaxed against the car's wall on the short trip up. It was a little after one in the morning, so Mrs. Bestler wasn't doing her elevator attendant bit. Normally Stephanie found it amusing, but tonight she just wanted to get to her apartment without running into anyone.

The elevator chimed and she pulled her Sig out of her purse before stepping into the hallway. She unlocked her apartment quietly and did a quick walk-through before locking the door.

Stephanie kicked off her heels and carried her purse into the kitchen so she could plug her electronics into their various chargers. She carried her gun into the bathroom and took a quick Bulgari shower and then slipped into one of Ranger's black t-shirts left over from another life. When it came to Ranger, even as angry at him as she was, she was a glutton for punishment.

Stephanie double-checked that her window was locked, placed her gun on the bedside table before climbing under the covers, and quietly cried herself to sleep.

#

**YO****:** The next chapter should have more dialogue and some action. The Merry Men aren't nearly as oblivious as they've been pretending and Ranger is due for a butt kicking. Whether or not this will actually involve any swinging fists has yet to be determined. And what do you think? Should Diesel get a cameo? I've got a real soft spot for Diesel.


	3. Chapter 3

**NOTE****:** Again, I'd like to thank those of you that have left me feedback. Your support is deeply appreciated and I hope you like this next chapter.

This chapter has got some Ranger POV and some Stephanie POV. Lester and Joe are on the scene and there's some humor involved. I don't want this story to be a complete sob-fest because I just don't think that's who Stephanie is. Heartbroken or not, she's got some great friends and I think they'd be trying extra hard to keep her from wallowing even if she wasn't set on getting on with her life.

I really hope the "funny parts" are funny. I don't do humor often, so I'd love to hear what you think.

**SPOILERS****:** Not this chapter.

**RATING****:** Language, mild violence, sexual tension, and poop. No smut yet, but it's coming.

**CHAPTER THREE****:**

Stephanie was right. He needed another hobby. Disbelief and pride were all roiled together as he thought about how she'd made him in the club's parking lot. He supposed he was lucky to be who he was and not some random fuck following her to her car. Steph on the shooting range had been showing exemplary marksmanship. The wrong person would have been dead, or at least wounded. All the crotch shots she took on the range were a little disconcerting.

Ranger stood in the shadows, watching the light from Stephanie's bedroom window and saw her check her locks and then move out of sight. The light went off and all was quiet. He wanted to slip into her apartment, climb into her bed and gather her tight against his chest.

Not so long ago he probably could have crept in through the front door and sat in the chair near her bed, watching her sleep without waking her. He doubted that was the case any longer. Sneaking up on Stephanie could end up with him getting shot. Maybe even if she recognized him, he thought ruefully.

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

Ranger had his Glock in his hand and pointed at the shadow in a blink.

Santos stepped fully into the light, blank face in place. A pang hit him in the heart as he remembered Stephanie joking about the blank face being a necessary part of the RangeMan uniform and asking when he would issue her hers. That was before he'd fucked everything up.

Holstering his gun, Ranger returned the look. Santos' brows drew together in a frown as he considered Ranger. His eyes flashed up to Stephanie's window and then back.

"Ranger, don't you think Steph's had enough stalkers?" Santos questioned, taking another step forward.

Ranger suppressed the urge to run a hand through his hair and began moving toward his car, not caring if Santos followed or not. He knew that was exactly what he was doing, but he didn't enjoy having someone else call him on it.

He reached for the door of his car but Santos' hand on his shoulder stopped him. He thought about telling Santos off, pulling the boss card and telling the other man to stay the fuck out of his business. The problem was, Santos considered Stephanie a friend and the consideration went both ways. As far as Ranger could tell, Stephanie didn't consider him much at all.

Ranger expelled a breath and turned to face Les, leaning back against the car and folding his arms across his chest. "I'm not stalking her. I was worried about her."

"For someone that isn't stalking her, you sure follow her around a lot."

Something in his expression must have given away his anger because Santos lifted his hands in supplication.

"Whoa, man, don't take that the wrong way. Steph's got a rocky history with psychos of a serious caliber and you're not the only one that keeps tabs on her GPS. You're just the only one that actually follows her without her knowing it."

That sure as fuck took the wind out of his sails. Ranger gave in and dragged a hand over his face and then through his hair. "She knows," he said finally and opened his eyes to see Santos raising a brow at him quizzically. "I almost got shot following her out of a club tonight."

Santos loosed a low whistle. "Bombshell drew on you?"

Ranger had his blank face back in place, but nodded. "She didn't see me until she was pulling away, but she called me out without even getting a look at me."

The expression on Santos' face said he was thinking of laughing but decided against it. Understandable. Used to be that Stephanie wouldn't know she was being watched until she'd been nailed with a stun gun right in her own apartment.

"Woman's got a sixth sense when it comes to you, Boss," Santos said finally.

Silence stretched between them and then Santos let out a sigh. "_Are_ you worried someone's tracking her? Is that was all the following is about?"

Ranger thought about lying. He could play it off that he was just doing what he'd been doing for years; watching Stephanie's back whether she wanted him to or not. He discarded that plan quickly, though. Blank face or not, Santos had known him long enough to recognize a lie. More than that, something in the other man's eyes said he had a pretty good idea exactly what Ranger's real reasons were.

"I'm reasonably certain I'm the only stalker in Stephanie's life right now," he said finally.

Santos considered him seriously for a moment and then nodded slowly. "You should try being one of her friends," he replied and then turned and walked away.

Ranger watched him go and then waited for Santos to get in his own vehicle and drive away before doing the same.

#

The morning dawned bright and warm. Stephanie pulled her pillow over face, groaning miserably. It was as if the weather was spitefully reminding her that other people were happy and ready to enjoy the sunshine.

The storm front must have blown through in the night, and finally rolling out of bed to peer out the window, Stephanie saw that Trenton was sparkling and clean after a hard shower. Well, what passed for clean in Jersey, anyway.

Her digital clock said it was nine in the morning. No work today, but the prospect of the empty hours drove her into the bathroom to tame her hair and pull herself together. She had two skips that needed to be brought in and today was as good a day to get the job done as any.

Dressing in a pair of worn blue jeans, CAT boots, and a white tank top, Stephanie considered her reflection in the mirror.

Last night's crying had been quiet and her face didn't look like it had suffered too badly. She did the make-up thing, pulled her hair back into a messy knot and clipped her gun to her belt.

From the kitchen she heard the phone ring and went to check the caller ID as well as grab her cell phone, stun gun, and an extra ammo clip.

The phone's display said it was her mother. _Shit_.

Stephanie hadn't talked to her mother in almost three weeks. Studiously ignoring the phone calls and deleting any messages before listening to them, she had a pretty good idea what today's call would be about. As the machine clicked over to pick up the call, she wasn't disappointed.

"Stephanie, it's your mother." As if there was any doubt. "Why aren't you returning my calls? Are you eating? What about Friday dinner? I made chicken and pineapple upside-down cake but could you be bothered to show your face? No. Why do I have to have a daughter that chases criminals and works for them too?"

Stephanie breathed a sigh of relief as her mother disconnected. Pineapple upside-down cake sounded great, but Stephanie was so sick of defending her breakup with Joe as well as her career choice that she was willing to get her sugar fix from Boston Creams and TastyKakes for the foreseeable future.

What her mom didn't know was that Stephanie wasn't avoiding the whole family, just her. In fact, she thought as she checked the time once more, her dad was probably cruising in his cab right now. She could give him a call and see if he'd like to have a cup of coffee with her before she headed to the bonds office to pick up Lula. They'd been meeting for coffee most Saturday's since her incident with the buckshot.

She'd just finished clipping her gear to her belt when she heard the locks on the door tumble, indicating that someone was getting ready to enter her apartment. Morelli never came over without a phone call these days and Ranger wasn't exactly a welcome visitor with or without warning.

Drawing her gun, Stephanie moved quickly and quietly to the wall near the kitchen entry. Anyone passing wouldn't be able to see her until they'd either passed the kitchen or stepped into it.

The door opened and she heard clothing rustle as someone passed into the foyer. The door closed and locked quietly, as if whoever the intruder was didn't want to be heard. The clock on the stove said it was nine-thirty. Most people would assume she was still asleep.

Stephanie did the breathing exercises Bobby had taught her as part of her self-defense training, focusing the adrenaline in her body, stretching out her senses.

"Don't get ready," he'd told her, correcting the position of her feet, moving her hand. "_Be_ ready."

A man stepped through the kitchen entry and Stephanie pressed the barrel of her gun against his temple. He froze.

Relief coursed through her like a river and Stephanie let her arms drop, clicking the safety as she relaxed.

"Fuckin' A, Les. You trying to get dead?" she demanded as she holstered her gun.

"Damn, Beautiful, you 'bout had me shitting my pants there for a second," he replied. He gave her an openly admiring look. "When did you get scary?"

The sudden adrenaline surge and subsequent let down left Stephanie feeling drained. She eyeballed the Tasty Pastry bag and coffee caddy in Lester's hands.

"That better be the reason you're here," she growled in response.

"Merry Men: We deliver," he answered, flashing her the mega-watt grin she'd become familiar with.

The man was entirely too enticing, she decided as she let her eyes wander over him. She raised her brows at him. "I love the skin trade."

"You're dirty," he laughed and placed the coffee and doughnuts on the counter.

Stephanie accepted a cup of coffee and a Boston Cream doughnut. "Only in appropriate company." She took a tentative sip of her coffee. Hot and strong. There was a dirty joke in there somewhere, too, she thought, but it was still too early with too little caffeine for her to crack it to Lester. He'd been awake longer and was lighter on his toes when it came to sexual innuendo and blatant flirting.

"Don't get me wrong," she began a moment later. "I'm glad you showed up, but what are you doing here?"

Lester finished taking a sip of his own java and considered her seriously.

_Uh-oh_, she thought. _Lester serious, this must be bad_. Maybe Ranger was angry at her for pointing a gun at him and telling him to get a new hobby. Maybe she was being shipped to Somalia. Her first thought was she should have had more sex. Maybe with Joe. She could have made him useful a few more times before getting sent somewhere that didn't have any sugar.

"We're worried about you," he stated finally.

"'We'?"

"The men." He hesitated, scrutinizing her face, but she was pulling the blank look and she could tell by his reaction that it was working. Nothing there. No hints.

"You wanna tell me about last night?"

Anger raced through Stephanie like an electric current. This was the part where she would have been in full-on rhino mode six months ago. The part where Italian temper and Hungarian volume would have gone on a rampage. That never worked with the Merry Men, though. If she wanted to be angry, she would have to 'stay frosty', as they so often said.

"Did Ranger send you here?" she asked, her voice deceptively calm.

Lester leaned back against the counter, crossing his legs at the ankles. "No. I sent me here. Like I said, we're worried about you."

The anger faded some and Stephanie mirrored Lester's stance. She couldn't decide if the day was getting better or worse, but she was ready to crawl back into bed at this point either way.

"And you got the short straw to come check on me?" she asked, suppressing sarcasm.

"Yes, actually, but the short straw was the one everyone wanted. I got lucky."

He was making it supremely difficult to hold on to the anger that had been coursing hot through her just a moment before. She smiled down at her coffee cup and then took a bite of her doughnut.

Gathering her thoughts she decided to answer his original question. "No, I don't really want to talk about last night."

"We know the boss has been following you around," he admitted, watching her face carefully.

She mulled over this. Of course they would know. Even Ranger's personal cars all had LoJack. She was a little surprised he didn't disable it when he was following her around, but then, he'd never cared what anyone thought of his actions before. It wasn't likely that he'd start now.

"I've caught him at it a few times over the last four months," she told him. "I never said anything." She studied his expression. "You talked to him? He told you about last night?"

Lester shrugged, took a bite of a doughnut. Obviously, Lester's body wasn't held to the same temple rules and regulations as Ranger's. "I tracked him down and asked him what was going on. He told me you'd made him in a parking lot and he'd almost gotten shot."

Stephanie snorted. "I wouldn't have shot him."

"What if you hadn't known it was him?" he queried.

"I would have asked him to step into the light, hands raised. I would have made my next step from there." She slumped slightly, feeling the weight of the past six months pressing hard on her shoulders.

"This is fucking ridiculous," she gritted out. "Why the hell is he stalking me?"

"That's what I asked him."

She raised a brow at him. "You used the word 'stalking'?"

Lester let out a little laugh. "Yeah." He waggled his eyebrows at her. "I know why I'd be stalking you."

"Now who's dirty?" Stephanie tried to glare at him, but the sexy grin on his face was making it hard for her to concentrate. "You know, you make it hard for a girl to stay in a shitty mood."

He moved away from the counter and tapped a finger on the end of her nose. "That's the idea." His slate green eyes softened, the laughter fading out of them. He shifted closer to her and Stephanie felt her breath hitch as his eyes dilated.

_Whoa_. Something was burning and she was pretty sure it was her. Time slowed and Stephanie realized she'd stopped breathing.

Lester sucked a deep breath in through his nose and stepped back, breaking the tension, a small smile on his lips.

"What are your plans today?" he asked, lifting his coffee for a sip.

Suppressing the edge to shake her head clear, Stephanie hid behind her own cup, taking a long pull. Maybe it was time to take up smoking; a cigarette sounded perfect. Nothing like a little self-destruction to keep your perspective. It had felt like he was going to kiss her and she wasn't sure if she was relieved or disappointed that he hadn't.

Shoving those thoughts away, Stephanie met his gaze, not using the blank face, but definitely something more neutral than 'take off your pants'. Six months with nothing but the shower massager was obviously taking its toll.

"I've got a couple FTA's to bring in for Vinnie. Nothing that should be too difficult. I was going to have Lula run backup for me, but since you're here and don't look busy, maybe you'd like to help?"

Lester finished his doughnut and sucked a smudge of frosting off his thumb. Stephanie concentrated on not letting her eyes glaze over as she waited for his reply.

"Sure. You know where these skips are?" His eyes were zoned on her mouth and Stephanie realized she'd just licked her lips.

_Oops. Control yourself, Plum_, she admonished herself mentally before continuing. "Yeah, I did the legwork already." She headed for the living room to gain a little space and fetch the files from the coffee table where she'd left them, Lester following.

Stephanie picked up the files and flipped open the one on top. "Rodger Fulton, picked up for fourth degree assault. Says he's thirty-six and he got in a fight with his boss at Casey's Garage on Hamilton." She pulled the photo and handed it to Lester.

Fulton was five-foot-eleven, one-hundred and eighty pounds, and looked like a normal sort. No priors. His dark hair was cropped short and his brown eyes looked resigned in the mug shot.

"I'm guessing we're not going to find him at work, then," Lester hedged.

"No," Stephanie agreed. "His neighbor said he spends most his Saturday's at the park playing softball with a local auxiliary team. I thought I'd pick him up there."

"Sounds good. What about the other one?"

Stephanie shuffled Fulton and opened the other file. "Kermit Davenport. Apparently he was distributing prescription drugs to some of the local kids in his neighborhood. An angry parent found out and sicced the cops on him. Probably just forgot his court date."

"Where we gonna find him?"

"At home. The prescription drugs were given to him by a doctor. He worked construction and hurt his back. Probably selling the meds for bill money."

"Let's roll. I'll drive."

#

Ranger ducked and kicked out with left foot, catching Tank in the side of the knee. The larger man went down but used his downward momentum to knock Ranger's feet out from under him with a low sweep from his own left leg.

Ranger landed in a back tuck and sprang back to his feet just in time to block what would have been a punishing jab from one of Tank's sledgehammer fists.

"What's going on with you and Bomber?" Tanks asked, bouncing on the balls of his feet and leaping in for a strike.

Ranger turned the hit with a skillful block and another simultaneous strike from Tank's right before returning the attack.

"Nothing," he answered, his breathing only a little heavy despite the sweat on his skin.

They continued for a moment before Tank replied. "Then what's with the stalking routine?"

"Why the fuck are you all so interested in my business?" Ranger returned, punctuating his words with a rapid flurry of jabs and kicks.

Tank deflected him easily but let out a grunt when a kick tagged him in the side.

"We're not. We're interested in Stephanie's business."

Momentarily distracted, Ranger found himself blinking at the ceiling a moment later, the vivid reminder that Tank could hit really fucking hard throbbing in the side of his head.

Tank stood over him, expressionless. "What's going on, Rangeman?"

Ranger sat up slowly, shaking his head. He took Tank's proffered hand and was yanked to his feet, probably harder than was necessary.

"What makes you think anything's going on?" he asked, rubbing the side of his head. He was going to have a killer headache.

"Shit, I don't know. You never talk, she avoids you like the plague unless it's work related, you're following her but not spending any time with her…" he trailed off, eyeing Ranger shrewdly. "I could go on, but I think you know."

"You're reading too much into this."

"Bullshit. I don't know what you did to her, but I think you're regretting it now and can't get over yourself enough to fix it. She hasn't been with Morelli in months and you obviously have it bad, and it's no wonder. She's one-of-a-kind."

The rage was completely inappropriate, especially since Ranger knew that Tank was dead on. Stephanie had offered him something precious and he'd kicked her down. Now he was on edge, questioning his own motives and actions in a way he'd never felt necessary before, and his next words completely bypassed his brain on their way to his mouth.

"So you fuck her."

Screw a headache, he was going to have a concussion. A nuclear bomb went off in his head and he was face down on the mat. He couldn't remember ever being hit that hard.

He tried to push himself to his knees but Tank beat him to it, kneeling to grab him by the front of his sleeveless t-shirt and haul them nose-to-nose.

"That's disgusting," Tank growled, his tone dangerous. "I was gonna tell you to at least try and fix your friendship with her since you're too chickenshit to tell her you love her, but you don't deserve even that, and she deserves better."

Ranger could have caught himself if the other man had just let him go, but Tank threw him face first into the mat. Hard. A few mortars went off behind his lids and it took more effort than he would have thought to roll to his back.

Tank was out of the ring and walking away from him when he opened his eyes, groaning at the thundering in his skull. "She should have shot you," Tank called without looking back.

Ranger laid on the mat staring at the ceiling, thinking it probably would have been preferable to the beating he'd just taken.

#

"You have a concussion."

Ranger clenched his jaw to control the 'no shit' that wanted to leave his mouth but forced it to relax a second later. Even clenching his jaw made fireworks explode in his head.

Zero looked anything but sympathetic as he stepped back from checking Ranger's tracking with a penlight. He grabbed a bottle of migraine medicine from a cabinet and looked like he was going to toss it to Ranger but then thought better of it and handed it to him instead.

"You know the drill. You might as well go upstairs. I'll have someone check on you every hour or so."

From the barely restrained anger Zero was exhibiting Ranger figured he'd been watching the monitors when Tank decided to treat his head like a punching bag. Which meant he'd seen how Ranger had provoked it, as well. He wanted to be angry but it was hard when he knew their anger was a product of their protective feelings toward Stephanie.

_Might as well get this over with_. "Who else was watching the monitors?"

"Cal, Binkie, Junior, and Ram." Zero's eyes narrowed dangerously and Ranger really hoped he wasn't about to get decked in the head again. "That was low, dude. What if Bomber had been in the building?"

It wasn't often that Ranger felt remorse. He was also pretty sure he was feeling a nasty dose of shame. _'What if Bomber had been in the building?' _That thought made him feel sick and he was certain it wasn't just the concussion responsible. He hung his head for a moment.

"You better figure out what you're doing with her, Boss. You're not the only one that's got it bad."

Ranger mentally cursed as his head shot up to meet Zero's gaze. Everything spun, but he managed to grit out, "What the hell does that mean?"

Zero shrugged, palms up, and left the room.

#

"Beautiful! You alright?"

Stephanie pushed the bulk of Kermit Davenport of her with a grunt and took Lester's hand. He pulled her to her feet and they both looked down at the incapacitated Davenport.

"Ouch," Stephanie said, rubbing her ribs.

Lester had gone around front and Steph had taken the back. Before Lester could even identify himself, Davenport's back door had flown open and the two-hundred-and-fifty-pound construction worker had barreled into her like a semi-truck.

They'd gone down hard, but Stephanie had been quick enough to get the stun gun off her belt and into Kermit's side before anything more damaging happened.

"You okay?"

Stephanie nodded and used her foot to roll Davenport onto his stomach so she could cuff him.

"Christ, it was like getting tackled by Tank. He moved good for a guy with a trashed back."

"He's a big guy," Lester agreed and hauled the skip to his feet. The guy was drooling and his eyes were rolling but he managed to keep his feet under him. "C'mon, buddy. This really isn't a big deal."

They walked back around to the front of the house and Stephanie waved at Kermit's duplex neighbors as Lester loaded the man into the back of the black Bronco.

Davenport was quiet on the trip to the police department and Lester was in the stereotypical RangeMan zone. Stephanie didn't mind, staring out the windshield and mentally identifying cars, only half aware that she, too, was in the zone.

She used to wonder why Ranger didn't talk when he was driving, but now she knew it was just another part of 'being aware'. It was easier to keep track of the other cars and maybe identify pedestrians that were FTA, or something else equally interesting, if you weren't running your mouth during a drive.

Lester parked the Bronco and they walked Davenport to the docket officer to collect Stephanie's body receipt.

Eddie Gazzara wandered up to her with a grin and she returned his smile.

"Look at you," he greeted her. "No garbage or anything. Things have really gotten dull around here without you to spice it up."

Stephanie didn't mind Eddie's ribbing. Unlike some of the other cops in the Trenton PD, he was pleased she wasn't the punch line of half the jokes in the department anymore.

"At least they still got you, Gazzara," she teased back and reached out to flick a speck of doughnut sugar off his uniform shirt.

"Someone's gotta give the fellas a laugh," he agreed. He acknowledged Lester with a nod. "Well, back to work."

"Take it easy, Eddie."

They headed back out into the parking lot and Stephanie was pleasantly surprised to see Morelli leaning against the Bronco. He looked good and more than a little disreputable with his hair needing a cut and a five o'clock shadow darkening his jaw even though it wasn't even noon yet.

"Hey, Cupcake," he called. He nodded at Lester and pushed off from the Bronco to greet her.

Joe enveloped her in a warm hug and Stephanie just let herself lean into him for a second. He smelled like coffee and a scent she recognized distinctly as his; warm, male, and sexy. Just because they were only friends didn't mean she didn't notice.

"What's up?" she said, pulling back.

"Heard you were here and thought I'd say hi. I was gonna head to Pino's for some subs. You guys wanna come?"

Stephanie looked at Lester.

"I could eat," he said.

Morelli smiled. "Great. Meet you guys there."

Stephanie gave him a little finger wave and unstrapped her flak vest. She tossed it into the back of the Bronco and then climbed in next to Lester. As they pulled out, she could see Morelli following in a Crown Vic that didn't look like it had any right running. There was an artistically rendered pig head sprayed on the hood and it didn't have any side-view mirrors.

They pulled into Pino's and Stephanie got out and eyeballed Joe's car with a little smile. "That's a nice paintjob," she said.

"Yeah, I'd recommend the shop that did it, but they were kind enough to do it anonymously and for free," Joe replied as they entered Pino's together.

Lester led them to a booth in the back and Stephanie slid into the seat facing the door. Lester sat next to her, his thigh warm against hers, and Joe sat across. They placed their orders and talked amiably for a few minutes as they waited for their food.

"How's bounty hunting?" Joe asked, taking a sip of his Coke after their food arrived.

"Can't complain. We got another skip to pick up at the park after this. Shouldn't be a problem." Stephanie took a bite of her sub and leaned forward just in time to miss catching a blob of sauce on her shirt.

Lester handed her a napkin and she wiped her mouth. "Thanks."

"And the RangeMan bit?"

"I almost got my shirt ripped off during a distraction job last week," she answered.

Lester laughed. He'd been there, running backup, and had seen the whole thing.

"Yeah? Tell me about it," Joe prodded, and she could see he was expecting something humorous. She had to admit, in hindsight it was pretty funny.

"Long story short, I was supposed to convince a guy in a theme bar to follow me out to the parking lot."

"The bar has a different theme every weekend," Lester added. "Last weekend it was Dungeons and Dragons."

Morelli raised a brow expectantly.

"You're not going to believe what the guy's name was," Lester continued.

"What?"

"Hawk Talondoom."

"You're kidding," Morelli laughed.

"No, no joke. He legally had his name changed," Stephanie picked up. "I get told I have to dress the part and the outfit I had to wear was so ridiculous I thought I was going to end up in the funny farm."

Lester eyeballed her appraisingly. "I don't know. I thought it was kinda hot."

Stephanie socked him in the shoulder. "You would. Anyway, I've got on thigh-high fuck-me-boots, and green leather shorts with a matching bustier, the whole thing topped off with a cape and, best part, a sword on my belt. I'll admit, the sword was kinda fun."

"What did you guys wear?" Joe asked Lester.

"Stereotypical warrior wear. It was like going to a Lord of the Rings convention or something.

"So, Bomber comes in looking like the Elf Queen and spots Talondoom," here he broke off to laugh. "Fuck, I can't even say that name without cracking up."

They were all grinning now, subs momentarily forgotten. "I spot the guy and strike up a conversation. He's going on about point levels and ogling my goodies while I'm trying not to let on that I haven't got a clue when there's a screech like something out of a horror movie," Stephanie continued.

"Steph turns and there's some crazy broad dressed up like Xena: Warrior Princess. She's got a plastic sword and she's yelling something about elf sluts trying to take her man and then she starts hacking at Stephanie."

"I managed to disarm Xena, but not before she got a hold of my bustier and yanked the front down in front of the whole bar. After Talondoom got a look at the goods he'd been eyeballing it wasn't hard to convince him I needed a shoulder to lean on and help to my car."

"Sorry I missed that," Joe laughed. "And I really mean it."

"I love running distraction gigs with the Bombshell," Lester agreed.

"You just liked getting to ogle my tits," Stephanie accused and Lester shrugged.

"Your point?"

"That's all I got."

"They're good tits," Joe added and waggled his eyebrows at her.

"Why me?" Stephanie moaned, looking to the sky.

They finished their lunch, Joe adding to the humorous mood with a story of Bob crapping out shoelaces that didn't belong to any shoes he recognized and a pink, plastic Easter egg right in front of Grandma Bella at his niece's birthday party.

"Gives a whole new meaning to holy shit," Lester commented.

"I think it might have still had candy in it," Joe speculated.

"How do you know?" Stephanie gasped, laughing too hard to catch her breath.

Joe looked a little sheepish as he answered, "I shook it when I scooped it up, but there was no way I was cracking it open to look."

Stephanie wiped tears of mirth away from her eyes with a sigh and sat back in the booth, folding her hands over her stomach.

"This was fun," she commented.

"Yeah," Joe agreed. He checked his watch. "Shit, I gotta run. Walk me out?"

Lester slid out of the booth and helped Stephanie up.

Joe tossed a few bills on the table. "My treat." He winked at Stephanie and offered her his arm.

They left Pino's, Lester following behind.

Joe and Lester slapped hands and pounded their knuckles together in a manly gesture Stephanie was now familiar with and often called on to perform herself working with so many men on a daily basis.

Lester climbed into the Bronco, giving her and Morelli a moment of privacy.

Morelli turned her to face him and tucked a curl that had come loose from her knot behind her ear.

"How you doin', Cupcake?"

Just like that the pain was back. She'd been able to forget it for most of the day, and lunch had shoved it way back, but Morelli's chocolate eyes saw deep and he knew her well.

"Shit, I'm sorry," he said and gathered her into a hug.

Stephanie buried her face in Joe's chest and took a deep shuddering breath. He held her for a moment, letting her collect herself.

"That good, huh?" he said when she finally met his gaze again.

She shrugged noncommittally. "He follows me around but I can't even remember the last time we talked about anything other than work. Ranger's not exactly Mr. Communication, but even talking about work he says as little as possible." She made a frustrated noise in the back of her throat. "I don't know what the fuck to do, so I just do the blank face." She demonstrated and Joe knuckled her under the chin.

"Damned good at it, too. Bet it's driving him fuckin' batty." He winked. "Pun intended."

Stephanie couldn't help but laugh.

She gave him the short version of the previous night's confrontation and Joe turned serious.

"Listen, Cupcake, Ranger's crazy. Even more than I thought if he's following you around and pretending it has nothing to do with the way he feels about you. I think he's doing this because he's in love with you and too scared to shelve his own insecurities about commitment."

"I wish he'd pull his head out of his ass and at least treat me the way he used to. I feel like I've lost my best friend."

"And what am I? Chopped liver?"

"_One_ of my best friends," she amended and gave him a squeeze.

"Don't give up, Steph. Ranger's being dense, but he's a smart man and I think he'll figure it out. Until then-," Joe looked past her to Lester sitting patiently in the Bronco, "maybe you should go out on a date."

Stephanie grimaced. "I'll think about a date, but maybe not with Lester. I think he might be in it for more than the jealousy factor."

"Whatever you do, keep your chin up." He checked his watch again and frowned. "I really gotta go."

Stephanie went up on tip-toe and kissed his stubble roughened jaw. "Go catch some bad guys."

Joe dropped a kiss on her forehead and stepped back. "Take it easy, Cupcake."

"Joe?" she called, just before he slid into his car. He halted, looking at her expectantly. "Thanks."

"No problem. I'll call you in a couple days."

She waved goodbye and slid into the passenger seat next to Lester as Morelli pulled out of the lot.

Lester winked at her and started the SUV. "Ready for a take-down?"

"I was born ready."

They both laughed at the cheesy line and headed toward the park.

#

**YO****:** So, no Diesel, and I'm still undecided about him making an appearance. If it happens, it'll be naturally and it really will be a cameo. We'll see if it fits in with the story.

Ranger got concrete evidence that his little stalking routine hasn't gone unnoticed by anyone and even more evidence that the Merry Men will protect her, even from him. Did he have the concussion coming, you think?

I can't wait to hear what you all think of this chapter. Still not sure what's going to happen next, but I promise, the Happily-Ever-After will be good and the smut will be explosive.


	4. Chapter 4

**NOTE****:** How awesome are you guys? HUGE AWESOME. I've got so much amazing feedback and support from everyone that I'm doing the happy dance all day long.

Here's a nice, long chapter for you all. Pathos, sexual tension, and maybe a tad of humor. Lester's still hanging around, but I don't think anyone's going to mind. I'm just having too much fun with him to put him away yet. Also, I think his part in this might lead to a Lester spin off, just because he's so damned fine.

So here's chapter four, and chapter five is already writing its key plot points in my head, so it should be following soon.

**SPOILERS****:** Through _Twelve Sharp_, including a direct quote (probably one of my favorite dialogues in the entire series).

**RATING****:** Language, adult situations, soft-smut, and some mild violence. All's fair in love and fan fiction.

**CHAPTER FOUR****:**

Stephanie loved when a skip really did just forget their court date and acquiesced to being cuffed and led to the car. She loved when they got into the car and rode all the way to the station in polite silence. Her favorite part was leaving the station with her body ticket in hand in as good a shape as she'd left her apartment in the morning.

It was only one forty-five in the afternoon and Stephanie had two body tickets and a skip backlog of zero. Connie had been planning on staying at the bonds office until three and said she could come to the station and re-bond Rodger Fulton before heading home. That meant Stephanie could even feel good about hauling Fulton away from his softball practice. He'd be back in time for pizza and beer.

Lester started the Bronco's powerful engine as Stephanie buckled herself into the passenger seat.

"What's next on the itinerary, Beautiful?" he asked as he pulled out of the station lot.

Stephanie shrugged. "No clue. It's still early and my plans ended with getting Fulton re-bonded."

"I've got an idea," he offered.

Stephanie slanted him a look. "If it involves one or both of us taking our clothes off, you can forget it."

"Way to shoot a man down, but no. I was thinking a defensive driving lesson." Lester's eyes were full of laughter as he met her look.

Defensive driving wasn't something she'd tackled yet and it was going to be hours before she could find something else to occupy her time, so Stephanie nodded. "I'm in."

#

The defensive driving course was an empty lot on the outskirts of Trenton. At the edge of the lot was a large shed that Lester revealed to be full of barriers, road cones, and plenty of equipment that Stephanie didn't recognize.

The macadam was painted to simulate an urban road system and Lester set up a few basic courses for her to drive through.

They started slow, Stephanie weaving between road cones and rounding corners. Four hours later she felt like she was filming a luxury car commercial as she slalomed at fifty-miles-per-hour through the course and slid around corners without rolling the Bronco. She even learned how to execute a trooper turn-around, whipping the Bronco around with the help of a few shifting techniques that made her feel like James Bond.

By the time hunger was gnawing at her insides, Stephanie realized it was almost seven o'clock and she'd hardly thought about Ranger at all. Definitely a good thing.

Lester took the wheel once more and they headed back into Trenton.

"You wanna get something to eat?" he asked, eyes focused on the road.

"How about picking up a pizza and some beer and we can dig in at my place? I'm whooped."

"Is the part where one or both of us get's naked still off the table?"

"'Fraid so."

"Worth a shot. The pizza will have to do."

Lester flipped open his cell phone and dialed Shorty's as they drove, ordering a large supreme pizza for pickup so they wouldn't have to wait around.

A little store on the corner provided a convenient place to pick up a twelve-pack of Corona. Minutes after gathering their supplies they were pulling into Stephanie's parking lot.

Lester led the way up the stairs and Stephanie hardly noticed. She'd gotten so used to taking them herself that she didn't even complain mentally about the chore.

When they reached her apartment door Lester stuck his hand out for her keys and she handed them over without a fuss, accepting the pizza he'd been carrying.

It only took a moment for Les to determine that her apartment was safe. He took the pizza back from her and headed for the kitchen while Stephanie locked up. The smell from the pizza box was making her weak in the knees and she couldn't think of anything that sounded better then getting into some sweats and falling into the couch with a few slices and enough beer to keep her mentally Ranger-free for the remainder of her evening.

"I'm going to clean up," she told Les as he busied himself gathering plates and napkins.

"I'll have everything on the coffee table when you're done," he answered. He gave her a lecherous grin. "You going to put on something a little more comfortable, Beautiful?"

Stephanie stuck out her tongue at him and headed to her bedroom without answering. She shucked her boots and clothes and changed into a clean camisole and a pair of calf-length, charcoal gray yoga pants.

When she came back into the living room, Lester was slouched on the sofa, his boots under the coffee table, a paper plate with three slices of pizza balanced on his flat stomach and a beer dangling from his hand. He was busily flipping channels, so Stephanie carried her gun belt into the kitchen so she could put away her extra ammo and other equipment.

She carried her gun back to the living room and turned on the window-mounted AC unit she'd purchased at the beginning of the summer. Cool air immediately began pouring out, relieving the apartment's oppressive heat.

Lester settled on _Gladiator_ and patted the couch cushion next to his leg, inviting Stephanie to sit next to him. Stephanie placed her gun on the table next to Lester's and dropped down onto the sofa. There was another paper plate loaded with slices and a beer with the top twisted off waiting for her. She adopted the same position as Les and propped her feet on the table in front of them.

Stephanie tucked in to her pizza with the usual gusto, practically forgetting Les in her enjoyment of greasy, cheesy goodness.

"Stop it."

Stephanie paused and slid her eyes to Lester's face. He'd only eaten half a slice and his eyes were dilated to almost black, fixed on the tip of her tongue where she had it frozen against the corner of her mouth in mid-lick. His own lips were slightly parted, the expression on his face telling her that her enthusiastic eating habits were putting a strain on his libido.

He reached out to her slowly and used the pad of his thumb to wipe a spot of pizza sauce off her lower lip.

His finger lingered and she pulled back slightly, breaking the contact. "Sorry," she whispered, dragging her eyes from his mouth and back to his gaze. "It's a good pizza."

Lester let his hand drop and took a deep breath. A wry smile twisted his lips slightly and he shook his head a bit before turning his attention back to the movie.

_It really isn't fair_, Stephanie thought as she concentrated on enjoying her pizza a little less vocally. Les was absurdly attractive with his muscular physique, slate green eyes, and Mediterranean coloring. His dark brown hair was shorn tight to his skull, revealing a two inch scar that faded back over his left ear. His jaw was perpetually shadowed with dark stubble, much like Morelli, and his skin was a shade or two lighter than Ranger's. All-in-all, he made a mouth-wateringly appealing package, and more than that, he was fun, smart, and incredibly likeable. And he wanted her.

Stephanie thought about putting down her plate, turning to Les, and running a finger along that scar. She could trace the line and then let her finger trail behind his ear and down the side of his neck. She could give in to the sexual tension that had manifested itself time and again over the last three months, climb into his lap, and forget that the majority of her heart was a cold, dead thing.

She could use Les the way Ranger had used her the time he'd collected his "payment", taking her pleasure in his body and then forcing him to accept nothing more than friendship in return. She could, and he'd probably let her.

The fact that she could even consider it made her heart pound hard against her chest and she noticed his glance as her breath caught for a moment before returning to normal. Damned Merry Men were _too_ aware of their surroundings, and she was letting her thoughts and emotions control her visible reactions too much.

Composing herself, Stephanie knew she couldn't do that to Les. Their relationship was proof that his attraction for her was more than sexual and using him like that would hurt him in a way that she never wanted to do. He'd made himself available to her when she needed him and had never asked for anything more than the friendship she gave him in return.

The hours on the gun range, letting Bobby turn him into a dummy for defense practice, refusing a cut of her fee when he ran back-up for her on skips unrelated to her position at RangeMan; the list went on. And he'd never made a single sexual advance on her, even though she'd known for a while that he wanted to. Even though there'd been a few times that she might have given in.

He was _damned_ sexy. She wiggled in her seat a little bit and finished her pizza, ignoring the curious look Les shot in her direction.

They both tossed their empty plates on the table at the same time and Stephanie finished off her beer in one long swallow. Lester's empty bottle was already next to the pizza box and Stephanie stood with a sigh.

"You want another beer?" she asked, collecting the bottles and plates.

"Sure, Beautiful. That'd be great." He settled deeper into the corner of the couch and rested his ankle on the opposite knee, his left arm stretched along the back of the couch.

_Get a grip, girl_, she chastised herself as her eyes slid over him. With a mental head shake, she fled to the kitchen. More booze probably wasn't the solution to her raging hormones, but she could sip slowly on another beer to at least keep her mouth busy and off Lester. He deserved better than being used as a stand-in for Ranger and she knew, even with the attraction she felt for him individually, that would be exactly what he was if she took him to bed.

That thought immediately brought to mind images of a naked Ranger and almost equally appealing ones of a naked Lester. Good lord, she was going to have to take a long shower with her massager as soon as Lester left.

Stephanie stuck her head well into the fridge as she went to grab the beers, hoping it would cool her off. She took a few deep breaths, collecting herself, and then carried the bottles back into the living room.

Les was focused on the television. Maximus was busy fighting for his life in single combat while trying to avoid a couple hungry and vicious looking tigers. Maximus didn't look like he was having a good time and Stephanie felt that she could relate.

Moving to the couch, she held one of the beers out to Les and he took it from her, his warm fingers brushing against hers. She gave a little gasp when he quickly grabbed her wrist with his other hand and pulled her down next to him, slinging his arm across her shoulders and pulling her tight against his side.

"A beer, a bombshell, and a violent movie. This is the life," Lester sighed and took a swallow of Corona.

Stephanie shoulder checked him, drawing a little oomph and a chuckle from him, but then settled in, taking comfort from his size and warmth.

She sipped her beer slowly and felt fatigue slipping over her. The previous night coupled with her daily battle to control her emotions, to direct them away from the pain that had become her constant companion, had taken its toll.

There came a moment when she vaguely remembered Lester taking the bottle from her limp fingers and then there was a blanket over her legs and the steady beat of his heart under her ear, lulling her to sleep.

#

He was supposed to be resting. Ella had come to check on him every hour or so, making sure he wasn't lying unconscious on the floor in a coma. Maybe it was his own guilt playing games with him, but even Ella seemed a little distant and disappointed.

Ella's behavior wasn't what had Ranger staring at his computer monitor in the dark of his office on the seventh floor, though. What had him brooding, elbows resting on the arms of his executive chair and fingers steepled in front of his lips, was the little icon on the digital map before him. The little icon that represented the RangeMan Bronco Santos was using.

That little icon had been sitting in the parking lot of Stephanie's building since a little before eight o'clock. The clock told him it was just short of midnight now.

Not only was Santos with Stephanie, he'd been with her all day judging by the various destinations he'd traveled to and coupled with the information Ranger had received from Connie when he'd called around half past noon earlier that afternoon.

Connie had sounded surprised to hear his voice on the phone and then confused when he'd asked who was running back-up for Steph.

"Lester is," Connie had answered. "Steph said he's going to help her pick up her last skip, too."

"Thanks," Ranger answered finally after an awkward silence and disconnected before Connie could squeeze in anything else.

Ranger, unable to control himself with nothing but a long empty day stretching out before him, had gone into his office and booted up the RangeMan LoJack network. By the time he got it on the screen it was a little before noon and Stephanie's car was sitting in her parking lot and didn't look like it had company.

Zero's earlier comment that he wasn't the only one that had it bad for Stephanie was haunting him, making him paranoid, he told himself. Then, just to be sure, he brought up the tracker filter that would show him the locations of various GPS transmitters RangeMan had in the field, including the one he had in Stephanie's purse and the other sewn into her gun holster.

The purse was in her apartment. Her gun was at Pino's, and a quick glance showed him that Santos' SUV was there, too. That's when he'd called Connie.

He'd continued to stare at the screen, watching as the SUV, carrying Stephanie's signal, left Pino's a little before one and then drove to Columbus Park where it stopped on the corner of Chestnut and Butler, near the baseball diamond.

Stephanie's tracker left the SUV and moved to the diamond, hovering near home plate. Less than ten minutes later it crossed back to the SUV and both signals traveled to the Trenton PD building.

From there they went to a lot owned by RangeMan for defensive driving training, and he watched as the little icons zipped around the lot for a few hours.

Ranger tried to work on a few accounts, contacting field operatives that were stationed at various properties RangeMan had been contracted to keep secure, checking the status of a few vehicles he had in the shop getting upgraded, and reviewing reports that covered a broad range of material.

No matter how busy he tried to keep himself, or the intermittent bouts of nausea coupled with a throbbing headache, he couldn't keep his mind off Stephanie. Alone. With Santos.

It was about twenty minutes past seven when he pulled the GPS up again and watched as the Bronco drove to Shorty's, parked for a few minutes and then went to the little convenience store around the corner before heading for Stephanie's apartment near the 'Burg.

Stephanie's tracker separated from the SUV and entered the building. Ranger waited for the SUV to leave, but an hour crept by, and then another, and still the Bronco remained in the parking lot.

Santos was Stephanie's friend. They'd spent the day together, having lunch at Pino's, picking up skips and running through a defensive driving course. Then they'd grabbed a pizza and beer and were now in her apartment.

It was the sort of day Ranger would have liked to spend with Stephanie. The sort of day he'd probably be experiencing often if he hadn't been set on maintaining his Man of Mystery persona. Ranger slumped in his seat, ran a hand through his hair and admitted to himself, finally, that it was the sort of day he could have had if he hadn't been a coward and had told Stephanie that he wanted her too.

What was Santos doing there? The obvious answer was that he was hanging out with Stephanie. But doing what? Were they watching TV together, or something else?

Was he in her bed? Santos was the kind of guy that made a woman's head turn. He could be intimidating, of course, and people tended to let their eyes turn away from a RangeMan when he was in uniform, but Stephanie _knew_ Santos.

She knew him in street clothes and she knew that he was a charming joker. She would know the man and that he was honest, likeable, and trustworthy. All were attributes that made him a good employee and friend.

Now that he was thinking about it, Ranger couldn't stop the images that were flooding his mind. Images of Stephanie on her back beneath Santos, touching him, kissing him. Moaning _his_ name as he made love to her.

Santos would be tasting her and whispering in her ear. Santos would wake up with Stephanie sprawled across his chest, her hair a riot of curls tickling his nose.

Santos, that mother fucker, would be in his, Ranger's, place, with _his_ woman, doing things to her that only _he_ should be allowed to do.

For the second time that day, Ranger felt rage curling up inside his chest, ready to explode.

_"You're not going to do something stupid and macho, are you?" _she'd asked him once while they were in her apartment during the Scrog fiasco.

_"I try hard not to do things that are stupid. I'm willing to make an exception in this case. I'm not leaving. And if you sleep with him while I'm here, I'll have to kill him," _he'd replied, "him" being Morelli.

Now Morelli was out of the picture and Ranger had been presented with the opportunity to make sure Stephanie never slept with anyone other than him again, but he'd blown it. He'd rejected her when what he'd wanted to do was kiss her senseless. He'd turned the whole situation into FUBAR and now Santos was in her apartment at midnight while Ranger sat at home, thinking of ways to slowly kill the man for being anywhere near her.

He was definitely having stupid, macho thoughts right now. Should he go there? Throw Santos out the bedroom window? No, that's where the fire escape was. Kick down the door and drag Santos into the parking lot? Then he could kick the shit out of him. Or shoot him. Or both.

Whatever was happening between Santos and Stephanie, she wouldn't be pleased to see him in her apartment, especially if he'd come just to throw his weight around.

Tank should have hit him harder. A coma would put him out of his misery. Maybe he'd wake up and find out the last six months were all a bad dream.

It was one in the morning and Santos' SUV was still parked in Stephanie's lot. That tiny icon was a shouting voice, and it was chanting a painful mantra: "Lost, lost, lost."

#

She was flying. It was a familiar dream, so Stephanie relaxed. She could see her parents' house far below, the peak of the garage her jumping off place. She'd been trying to get airborne from that peak since she was a little girl, but in her dreams she always lifted effortlessly into the blue. Here, she really was Wonder Woman.

The dream faded into reality and Steph became gradually aware that she was snugged against a warm, muscular chest with one leg thrown over a pair of hard, denim clad thighs.

Her apartment was still dark so the hour had to be early. Lester had his arm wrapped around her, holding her firmly against him, while his breathing told her he was sound asleep.

The television was dark except for the little DVD logo flashing randomly on the screen. Dim light filtered from the overhead stove light in the kitchen, casting a little rectangle of illumination on the beige carpet.

Stephanie didn't want to move. Lester's steady heartbeat under her ear was soothing and it had been a long time since she'd been held like this.

Dancing with strangers, even ones that looked similar to Ranger, didn't come even close to this. That was all about anger, hurt, and sexual frustration. It was about losing herself in a beat and moving with it while she remembered playing with fire.

This was the quiet peace.

Still enveloped in a sleep induced fog, Stephanie hardly noticed she was absently tracing circular designs on Lester's stomach through the thin material of his t-shirt until his hand caught hers. She shifted so she could tilt her head and look up at him.

His eyes were dark, hooded by heavy lids and his thick lashes. His jaw was covered in two days growth of beard, longer than she could ever remember seeing it, making him look simultaneously dangerous and vulnerable. His arm tightened across her back, pulling her tighter against him and causing the juncture of her thighs to rub against his leg.

She sucked a short hiss through her teeth at the contact, lips parted, and he lifted her fingers to his mouth to kiss the back of her hand between her thumb and forefinger.

With his eyes still locked on hers he shifted slightly and used the arm around her to pull her up against him. Her right arm was pinned between them, her left still held in his grasp.

Lester released her hand and it dropped to his shoulder. She couldn't help but fist her fingers in the soft fabric of his shirt as he slid his free hand into her hair and dipped his head to brush his lips over hers.

She couldn't breathe. Her heart was hammering in her chest at the contact, beating like wings hard against her ribs. When she didn't pull away or resist he improved on the motion, keeping the pressure light but sliding his tongue over her lower lip.

Stephanie inhaled sharply in response and the breath pulled his mouth firmly against hers. She heard him groan and she was suddenly in his lap, straddling him and fully aware of his hard length pressed against her.

His hips lifted slightly and she pressed herself against him, feeling his hands slide up her back and into her hair and his tongue in her mouth.

_This is bad_, she thought, sliding her tongue against his, one hand somehow cupping his jaw, her thumb stroking his cheek and the other hand holding the back of his head.

A shuddering moan eased out of her. _Aw, fuck, but if feels so good_.

It was perfect, except for the wretched sobbing taking place in her heart caused by the knowledge that even with this man, who was sexy and sweet and wonderful to spend time with, she wanted Ranger, and no substitute would ever be enough.

_Why?_ she thought, wanting to cry.

Lester suddenly shifted and broke the kiss, his strong arms pulling her near so that her head was on his shoulder and her face was pressed into the crook of his neck. She could feel him practically vibrating against her, and the proof of his arousal was still hard and obvious between them, but the embrace had turned platonic, somehow, and she couldn't help the sob that tore out of her.

It was like a beast, long caged, and it heaved out of her, too deep and painful to even be accompanied by tears and she clenched her eyes shut and gritted her teeth together.

"Shh," he soothed and she could feel one of his hands rubbing circled on her back. "It's alright, Beautiful. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that."

His deep voice did something to help calm her but she was still shuddering, choking on the sobs that wracked her.

Lester continued to hold her and she could feel his lips against her hair, whispering that it was okay.

Time seemed to slip away from her and she came around, realizing that she must have dozed against his chest. His hand was still sliding up and down her back, gentle and warm.

"I'm sorry," she whispered after a while, not moving.

"Don't be. I-" and he paused for a moment, collecting his thoughts. "I know this isn't what you want," he finished finally.

Gathering herself, Stephanie pressed her hands against his chest, lifting up so she could see his face. "I wish it was," she answered and let her forehead drop to his, closing her eyes.

"You're amazing," she continued. "But I can't-" and her voice broke on a sob. "I can't use you to feel better."

Lester placed a finger under her chin and lifted her head so she was gazing into his eyes, and his mouth was set in a small, sad smile.

"I know." He took a deep breath and gently kissed her lips. "Ranger's a fucking idiot."

A tear slid down her cheek and Lester brushed it away gently. "It's okay, Stephanie," he whispered and she felt that he really meant it. "This doesn't change anything. Not between us."

"I don't deserve you," she returned and dipped down to kiss his cheek, feeling the rough stubble there against her lips. "And you're way too good looking," she added and felt his laugh more than heard it.

"That's what all the ladies say," he replied and stood easily, still holding her against his chest. He hooked an arm under her knees and she rested against him as he carried her to her bedroom and laid down, holding her back against his front.

"Go to sleep, Beautiful. I'll be good," he whispered and pulled the comforter up over them both.

Stephanie placed her hand over his where it rested on her stomach, threading their fingers together, and relaxed against him, knowing it was true.

#

"Wake up, Sunshine."

Stephanie came awake slowly, blinking and then covering her mouth as a jaw-cracking yawn pushed its way out.

Lester, looking a little rumpled but rested, was sitting on the edge of the bed, a mug of steaming coffee in each hand.

Suppressing another yawn, Stephanie rolled to her back and gazed at Lester through hooded, bleary eyes.

"Coffee fairy?" she managed finally.

"Like I told you before, Merry Men: We deliver," he answered, and his smile was warm.

Stephanie placed her hands flat on the mattress and pushed herself upright. "Oh god, don't look at my hair," she moaned and Lester held out one of the two mugs to her.

She took it and held it below her nose, taking a deep breath of the steaming drink as he laughed and shoved his fingers through the wild mass.

"It's sexy," he assured her and took a sip of his own coffee as she narrowed her eyes at him.

"You're a good liar," she returned right before taking a long swallow. "Your coffee's pretty good, too."

"That's not all that's good, Beautiful," and he winked at her.

Stephanie took a steadying breath and another drink of her coffee for courage before starting, "Listen, Les, about last night-"

He held up a hand to stop her. "Steph, I know you're in love with Ranger. Last night was my fault."

"Not entirely your fault," she argued. "And you can't tell anyone about the Ranger thing. How do you know, anyway?"

"We all know."

"Who? The men? Jesus, am I so transparent?"

He toyed with one of her curls and shook his head. "No, not like you used to be. But you're around us a lot, and you haven't been doing the blank face to us like you have to him. Ranger's fuckin' oblivious."

Stephanie wasn't sure if it was relief she should be feeling at that moment, but she hid her confusion by nodding slowly and controlling her expression.

"If it weren't for that, I wouldn't have stopped," he continued. "You're dead sexy."

She couldn't help laughing at that. "You're way too good for me."

Lester sobered a bit and narrowed his eyes at her slightly. "I don't want you to worry about this. We're cool. Sure, now you know I want in your pants, but that's not so different from before, is it?"

It was with a supreme effort that Stephanie kept from shooting hot coffee out of her nose. She gave him a light shove and he laughed.

"So get up and get dressed. I'll treat you to breakfast somewhere that does pancakes and grease at least as well as I do coffee and women."

#

Sunday morning and the little restaurant Lester brought her too was packed, even before most church services were out.

Stephanie had her hair pulled back into a pony tail with a SEALS baseball cap jammed over the whole mess. She was still hiding behind her mirrored shades as they waited for enough space to open up so they could get inside and grab a table.

"You look like you've got a hangover," Lester commented, scanning the crowd habitually, his arm draped over her shoulders.

At six-foot-two, he was a few inches taller than Ranger and a few inches shorter than Tank, but still tall enough to be half a head above the other hungry patrons.

"And I'll continue to feel like I've got one until I get another cup of coffee and some fatty, greasy food in me."

He gave her a squeeze and then he was leading her inside the building. People moved aside as he came at them and Stephanie was once again grateful to be friends with guys that made most people nervous by just standing around.

There was some confusion at the door, but a few minutes later they were crammed into a corner table, their knees meeting underneath, and their faces buried in their coffee.

"Oh, this is good," Stephanie sighed and finally removed her hat and glasses. She checked the top of her head and was satisfied to feel that her hair was still all bound up tight and not doing something to embarrass her.

"Just wait until you try the pancakes." He tipped the menu he was scanning toward her and pointed to a full color photograph of a massive plate stacked with fluffy pancakes covered in berries and Devonshire cream. They'd somehow made room for two eggs over-easy and five enormous slices of bacon on the very edge of the plate.

At that moment, a waiter moved past their table holding two plates of the real thing. Stephanie felt her mouth fill with drool and wiped at her lips with the back of her sleeve. "Fuckin' A."

She leaned forward, her voice dead serious as she met Lester's eye. "I can't be held accountable for my actions," she warned as their serving person laid their plates before them. It was Mount Pancake and she was in for the long haul.

"Have at it. I'll just be slow getting up when we're done."

Stephanie would have laughed, but she was too busy moaning into her breakfast.

#

Loosening her belt a notch and slumping back in the seat with her coffee mug in hand, Stephanie released a contented sigh. "Wow." She stretched the word out like she'd just been rolled around in bed for a few hours and Lester chuckled.

"I told you this place is amazing. Although, I think you made every man within hearing squirm through the whole meal." Lester pushed his plate away and picked up his coffee cup, his eyes smiling at her over the rim.

"I gave fair warning. That was fabulous. It deserved moaning."

Lester waved a hand dismissively. "No arguments here. Most fun I've had at breakfast in a while." He shifted in his seat a bit and his hand disappeared beneath the table cloth for a moment. "Okay, and now I can stand up without embarrassing myself."

She raised a brow at him, sipping her own coffee.

"Waistband trick."

Stephanie laughed. "Nice."

The moment was interrupted by Lester's cell phone giving three beeps in quick succession and his brows drew together in a frown.

"Work?" Stephanie questioned. "I thought you had today off, too?"

"I do," he answered absently, placing his mug on the table and taking his cell off his belt. He raised it to his ear and gave the customary RangeMan greeting. "Talk."

Stephanie couldn't hear who was on the other end, but judging by the blank face Lester had firmly in place it was probably Ranger.

His eyes lifted to her face. "Yes." A pause.

"Is there a question in that?" Another pause and Stephanie saw something dark and dangerous flash in Lester's eyes although his face remained blank.

"We're not having this conversation right now." He closed the phone and Stephanie noticed a muscle ticking in his jaw.

It took a moment for Stephanie to relax her death-grip on the coffee mug she was still holding. "Ranger?" she asked quietly and Lester's steady look was answer enough.

Wondering if she really wanted to know, Stephanie asked the question. "What did he say?"

"Nothing worth repeating."

Stephanie turned her gaze downward and stared into her mug, shoulders slumping. "I can guess."

Lester was quiet but then he reached across the table and touched her hand. "This is his fault, not yours."

"What makes you so sure?" she whispered, still not meeting his gaze. She was feeling too raw to risk the sympathy she knew she'd see in his eyes. She didn't want to cry here.

"Tank saw you on the monitor."

Stephanie didn't have to ask him what he meant, but did. "You mean, six months ago, right?"

Lester pried her hand away from the coffee mug and held it in his own. "Yeah."

"Tell me Ranger didn't see that." She finally looked up and the sympathy was there, but he looked deeply angry, also, and it was obvious the anger wasn't directed at her.

He squeezed her fingers. "Tank deleted the recording. No one saw it but him."

She exhaled a breath she didn't even realize she'd been holding. "Small favors."

"There's all kinds, Beautiful. The Merry Men have your back."

Stephanie cracked a smile at that. "I know. Let's get the hell out of here. I need the beach."

"The beach it is."

#

**YO****:** So, what did you think of the sleepy Lester bit? I wanted him to get some, but not a lot. No worries; Steph is only going to get her groove on with Ranger.

Also, if you'd like to see how I picture the Stephanie Plum universe, visit /plumdirty to see my Photobucket album.

Can't wait to hear from you. Thank you so much for your continued feedback.


	5. Chapter 5

**NOTE:** Once more, a huge round of thanks is in order to all of you that are reading and leaving me feedback. If I haven't contacted you personally to say how much I appreciate you, please know that I do and that your continued support really touches me, and I don't just mean inappropriately. We'll save that touching for Ranger and the Merry Men.

In this chapter, the plot thickens and a plan is born. I'd love to give you a hint, but I swear that this story is writing itself and I have almost nothing to do with what's happening.

The muses are at work, and they're tall, dressed in black, and dead sexy. Easy for me to get lost in a world populated by a multitude of dangerous, mouth-watering men. Damn.

This chapter is, once more, pathos, because love hurts. Also, there's a touch of humor, a dash of Rex, a smattering of soft-core smut, and tickling, because there's not much in this world better than lying down and tickling. It's like mild curry, or green Tabasco; good, but it won't ruin you for the rest of the meal.

**SPOILERS:** Through "Plum Spooky" just to be sure.

**RATING:** Adult language, soft-core smut, adult situations, and probably plenty of other stuff that keeps this story Mature. No real smut yet, but it's all about the foreplay, Babe.

**CHAPTER FIVE:**

From the restaurant, they headed back to Stephanie's apartment, but they were only there for a few minutes before Ranger tracked them heading for Point Pleasant.

He shouldn't have called Santos. He could hardly believe what he'd said. What he'd meant to ask was how Stephanie was doing. What had come out was not nearly as civil.

Santos' voice over the phone was backed with the sounds of a crowded diner and Ranger could hear the hum of voices and the clanking of plates and silverware. "Talk."

"Are you with Stephanie?" Ranger had questioned.

"Yes." She was probably sitting directly across from Santos at that very moment, watching him talk on the phone.

Ranger wanted to say, "How is she?" but what came out was, "You were with her all night." It wasn't a question, but the mental images of Santos touching Stephanie were back and it was like he'd stepped outside of himself and was watching someone that looked like him on the talk on the phone.

Santos' voice was blank as he replied, "Is there a question in that?"

"Did you sleep with her?" _What the fuck am I saying?_ the sane part of his mind demanded.

There was a heavy pause and Ranger could feel Santos' anger humming over the line. "We're not having this conversation right now," he said finally and the line went dead.

_Well done, Manoso_, he congratulated himself derisively. He thought about slamming his head against his desk a few times but decided against it. Knocking himself out wasn't going to fix anything.

The concussion felt better today, but the edges of what was probably a massive bruise could be seen near his hairline and there was some definite swelling. He could be angry all he wanted, but in truth, he knew he'd deserved it. In fact, if anyone had ever talked about Stephanie like that to him, a concussion would have been getting off easy.

Ranger forced himself to shut down the GPS and get back to work. He had a presentation the next day for a new potential client and he needed to be prepared. If he could land this account RangeMan would be able to expand and he could turn some of his more promising contract workers into full-timers.

Still recovering from his Tank-imposed head injury, Ranger opted to work in his apartment. He called down to five to have someone bring him a few files that he needed and Cal delivered them, dropping them on his desk and leaving the apartment without saying a word. Ranger stared after his retreating back, wondering if he should say something, but Cal was gone before he could come up with anything that wasn't going to sound lame, even to his own ears.

Hours crept by and Ranger felt like he was making progress. He took a break and realized the day had slipped away. It was getting late and he hadn't eaten since breakfast.

Pushing back from his desk, Ranger stretched his arms over his head and then wandered into the kitchen. Ella had left him a tray on the counter loaded with steamed vegetables and rice with grilled chicken. He missed dessert. Actually, he missed watching Stephanie eat dessert. Her enjoyment of food was sweeter to watch than any treat could possibly taste. In fact, she even tasted like dessert to him.

His mind drifted back to a few days after Scrog had unloaded on him in Stephanie's apartment and the visit she paid him after he came home. Even when he was hurting and doped up on pain killers she'd managed to turn him on.

He could clearly picture her face as he forked a frosting rose into her mouth, reminding her that one Ranger was all she'd ever need. She'd closed her eyes rapturously as her mouth closed around the fork and he'd felt his body tighten.

When she'd opened her blue eyes to gaze at him, there'd been a tenderness in her expression that had made his breath hitch in his chest. Dios, she was beautiful.

Stephanie had reached out her hand and traced the edge of the square bandage taped to his neck and then along the strap of the sling holding his arm immobile against his chest.

"One's enough," she agreed, her voice low, "but only just. I thought I wasn't going to have even one Ranger when I saw you fall. I need you in my life." She hesitated and he searched her face. _What was she saying?_ "You're my best friend," she finally continued. "I love you." And here her mouth quirked in a smile but her eyes were strangely sad. "In my own way."

Ranger told himself that that was perfect and that he didn't want anything more than that. He knew that was a lie he'd been telling himself when Stephanie had come to him and offered her heart. He'd known it was a lie and he'd panicked, pushing her away like he'd done in the past.

Tank was right. She did deserve better.

Ranger felt like he was readying himself for what was showing signs of being a dangerous and potentially fatal campaign. _I'm just going to have __**be**__ better_.

#

He couldn't help but feel relieved when he checked the GPS later that night and saw that Santos had taken Stephanie home and then returned to the Haywood building. The SUV he'd used over the weekend was now parked in the garage.

Ranger had kept himself distracted so he wasn't sure when Santos had returned. His phone squawked and he brought it to his ear without checking the caller ID.

"Yo."

"We need to talk."

_Santos. Shit._

Ranger opted for disinterest. If Santos was about to tell him that Stephanie belonged to him now, Ranger really didn't want to hear it. In fact, he was determined to drive any other man out of her head the way he'd promised so long ago. He'd been the other man before and had screwed up. He wasn't about to repeat that mistake.

"So talk," he replied.

"Meet me in the gym."

Ranger was about to tell Santos to fuck himself and to say whatever was on his mind over the phone, but the other man had already disconnected.

He really hoped this wasn't going to end up with someone in the hospital.

#

Ranger stepped off the elevator on three and into the lobby that fronted the gym. He pushed through the door and stepped into the large room. Santos was waiting for him, sitting on the edge of the boxing ring and leaning back against the bottom rope, his arms crossed over his chest.

Santos' face was blank as Ranger approached him, his own features set in the same expression.

The two men regarded each other silently and the tension between them was a living thing, practically giving off sparks with its intensity.

Opting for at least an attempt at communication instead of his baser instinct to just throw himself at the other man and wrap his hands around his throat, Ranger tipped his head to the side slightly. "What's this about?"

No expression crossed Santos' face, but his eyes were twin flames, a brighter green in his anger than Ranger could remember ever seeing. He slipped off the edge of the ring and stepped up close to Ranger.

"You know _exactly_ what this is about." His voice was ice cold and Ranger felt his hackles rise.

He couldn't stop the next words that came out of his mouth. "What the fuck are you doing with her?" he demanded, his voice tight and low.

"Being her friend, you fuck. Do you have any idea what you did to her?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Santos' face would have seemed expressionless to anyone that didn't know him, but to Ranger there was a level of disgust present that was like a slap in the face.

"The Mighty Manoso doesn't know what I'm talking about." There was no question in his tone and his green eyes bored into Ranger's brown ones. "Tank was watching the monitors the night Bomber went running out of here six months ago. He saw her almost fall down seven flights of stairs trying to get out of here. He watched her come barreling into the garage, so desperate to leave that she fell in the parking lot."

Ranger felt like he'd been socked in the gut.

"He didn't stop her because he thought you'd go after her and fix whatever you'd broken, but you didn't. You just let her go and she hasn't been herself since."

"You're sleeping with her and now you're asking what I did?"

"I'm not sleeping with her. You're a fucking idiot. I don't know why, but she can't get you out of her head."

"You were with her all night," Ranger pointed out. He didn't even want to tackle the issue that Tank had seen Stephanie running away from him after that massive bag of dicks in his apartment. The concussion was doubly justified now.

"You've never stayed with Steph all night without _fucking_ her?" Lester challenged, his voice caustic, his choice of words letting Ranger know that someone had told Santos about the confrontation with Tank.

He didn't have a leg to stand on here and he knew it. He'd stayed with Stephanie plenty of times in the past, wanting her, even aching for her, and forced himself to behave because she belonged to another man. He could have forced the issue, convinced her to let go despite Morelli, but he'd cared about her too much to do that. So he'd sent her back to the cop, telling himself that was best for both of them.

"My relationship with Stephanie is none of your business," he said finally. "Not yours, or Tank's, or anyone else's."

"That's rich, Manoso. Your relationship with her is much more our business than her relationship with any of us is yours. We care about her, but I'm really starting to think the only person you care about is yourself."

Santos stalked around him, checking him with his shoulder on the way and not looking back once as he left the gym.

Ranger pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to work the headache out, knowing that it wasn't going to work.

"Fuck."

#

Ranger returned from his meeting around one in the afternoon the next day. He headed upstairs to the seventh floor and grabbed a bite to eat before heading back down to the control room.

He'd seen Stephanie's Miata when he'd pulled into the parking garage. Her car was parked as far from his as possible without being outside the lot.

The elevator doors admitted him to the fourth floor and the room went quiet as it usually did when he was around. Stephanie had her back to him, sitting in her cubicle facing the screen, silent like everyone else.

Ranger walked to his office and shut the door. He had to talk to her.

Moving around his desk he rang her desk phone. A smile tilted one corner of his mouth when she answered.

"Talk."

"I need you to come to my office," he said.

"Be right there." It was the voice that came with the blank face, but she was coming.

_Now what?_ Ranger circled to the front of his desk and leaned back against it, folding his arms over his chest and crossing his ankles.

There was a knock. "Enter," he called and the door swung open.

Stephanie was dressed in RangeMan black from the tips of her CAT boots to the collar of her t-shirt. Her gun and cell phone were clipped to her belt.

She leaned back against the door, folding her arms across her chest, almost mirroring his position. "You wanted to see me?" she said, her face and voice devoid of any emotion.

Her crossed arms had pushed her breasts up some and he let his eyes sweep over her. When he met her gaze again he saw something flash in her eyes that seemed sad and hurt before it was gone.

He tried for something neutral. Used to be he could talk to her about her life and what she was up to, how she was doing. Now it felt awkward, like he was prying, but he pushed on anyway. "How's the bounty hunting?"

Her eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly, and he thought maybe she wouldn't answer. "Good," she said finally.

"You've been spending a lot of time training. Seems to be paying off."

Stephanie cocked her head slightly to the side, her face giving nothing away. She seemed to be formulating a reply and he waited.

"The guys have been very helpful," she replied.

"They consider you part of the team."

Her jaw clenched and the corners of her eyes turned tight. She moved away from the door and stepped toward him, her movements controlled.

She leaned toward him slightly and her nostrils flared as if she were taking in his scent. "They do," she agreed, her voice steady.

She was so close he could feel the heat radiating off her body and her sky blue eyes darkened as she locked her gaze to his. His body responded immediately, and his pants were suddenly too tight. She smelled like something dark and spicy with a hint of jasmine and his eyes fell to her mouth.

"How do I fit into _your_ considerations?" she whispered and her eyes dipped to his lips.

Physicality used to work well for him when it came to Stephanie. They were like flint and steel, setting off sparks whenever they touched. He'd always used his control to make himself seem less effected by their encounters, whether it was a kiss in the alley beside the bonds office or something a little more intimate during the times they'd shared a bed for convenience or comfort. Only once had he taken her and now he was aching to do it again.

He reached for her, almost desperate to see if she would still respond to him with the same heat he remembered, to see if he could fix some of the damage he'd caused. He'd warned her before that messing with him was playing with fire, but she was the accelerant to his flame.

Stephanie grabbed the front of his shirt in both hands as Ranger pulled her flush against his body. He knew she'd be able to feel his erection and he gritted his teeth when she rolled her hips against him just as he took her mouth.

_Dios mio, it's been too long,_ he thought as his tongue slid between her lips. She tasted like coffee and dark chocolate, and her mouth moved against his as if she wanted to devour him whole.

One of her hands slid up to his throat and she gripped the muscled column gently, the pads of her fingers barely pressing into his skin.

He deepened the kiss and cupped her ass, lifting her more fully against him and she nipped at his lower lip hard enough to sting and then slid her tongue over the tender flesh.

Ranger groaned into her mouth. He'd missed this, like a man lost in the desert misses water. Like a drowning man misses air. He slid his thigh between her legs and she moved against him, sinuous and unbearably erotic.

Her breasts were plumped against his chest and she used her other hand to grip a handful of his hair at the base of his skull. She pulled her mouth away from his and put her lips next to his ear, holding his head still with the hand in his hair and the other, now squeezing just short of too hard, on his throat.

"What do you consider me, Ranger?" she hissed, and there was still passion in her voice, but it was cold. The sort of cold that burns.

Ranger went still with the realization that Stephanie was suddenly the one in control of the situation and she didn't have any intention of taking it where he would like.

"Because," she continued, pausing to nip lightly at his earlobe, "it seems like you consider me very, very little. It seems," and she dragged her teeth against his throat, "you think you can follow me around, dictate the parameters of our relationship, and give me nothing but this," and she rocked her hips against his straining cock pressed between them, "in return."

She shoved against him and was suddenly standing a foot away, her eyes like the sky before a hurricane hits.

"If all I want is to get _fucked_, we both know I don't need you, although you did it best." Her face was blank, and the venom in her voice said she didn't mean in bed. "We're done here." She turned on her heel and slipped out the door, shutting it quietly behind her.

Ranger stared after her, frozen in place with his hands at his sides, a fist around his heart, knowing that this was a wound he couldn't kiss better.

#

"Lester, I need your apartment."

"Sure, Beautiful," he began, turning in his seat with a smile. The smile turned to a frown when he saw her face and Stephanie struggled to hold it together. Obviously, the blank face was slipping at the moment.

Lester stood and went to take her shoulders but she backed up a step, shaking her head. "Please." The trembling was starting somewhere in her stomach, and she could feel the deep body ache following close behind.

His hands dropped and he reached into his pocket, pulling out his keys and handing them to her. "Do you need anything?"

"Space," she managed and swiftly left the room. She didn't bother with the elevator, instead taking the stairs down to the fourth floor.

She made her way to Lester's studio apartment, waving the key fob in front of the electronic lock. It turned green and she pushed inside, shutting the door behind her before sliding to the floor.

She went down to her knees, curling herself into a ball, teeth chattering uncontrollably. A moment later the shudders started to wrack her frame and she could feel all her muscles protesting as if she had the flu. She was freezing but sweat was standing out on her skin and a sob choked her, causing her to gasp.

"Shit, shit, shit," she cursed through gritted teeth. Tears were rolling out from beneath her clenched lids and she rocked back and forth, shaking, sobbing.

Nausea hit her hard and she dragged herself to her feet, stumbling into the small bath and heaving her lunch into the toilet.

What if she'd just ruined everything? Terror like nothing she'd ever felt had her in its grip, freezing her, and she forced herself to breathe.

She could feel Ranger's hard body against hers, taste his mouth and his skin as he kissed her, and the fire was there. The burn that she remembered achingly every day and night.

"Fuck him!" she screamed out loud and it ripped out of her throat so loud it hurt.

Who the fuck did he think he was? That he could just kiss her and she'd forget that he'd cast her aside like garbage? He thought he could follow her around, keep tabs on her movements, question her actions.

More than that, he was causing tension between him and the men, and that was dangerous. Someone could get killed.

#

_**Earlier That Day**_

Stephanie had exorcised some of her hurt and anger in the gym, concluding her workout with five minutes of beating the shit out of a training dummy. When she'd started training she'd barely been able to go a full minute and she was proud of her improvement.

Finishing up, Stephanie went into the locker room, calling out a warning to anyone that might be inside, but it was empty.

Despite the fact that no one with a physical handicap worked for RangeMan, the building was still required by law to have handicap facilities. Thankfully, the locker room had a separate room for those accommodations and Stephanie locked herself into the private bath for her post-workout routine.

Dressed in a fresh uniform, her gun and phone clipped to her belt, Stephanie shoved her duffle in a locker and took the elevator to the fifth floor.

Tank was waiting outside the elevator doors when she stepped off.

"Can you come with me?" he asked, opening the control room door for her to pass.

Stephanie checked his face, but it was RangeMan blank. "Sure," she answered and followed him into Ranger's empty office.

He shut the door and she turned to face him.

"What's up?"

"We've got a problem," he began and Stephanie waited for him to continue.

"Ranger is out of control. He's saying things and doing things that are putting his judgment in question."

"And this is my fault," she replied carefully, watching her tone, not wanting to sound defensive. She didn't think that's where Tank was taking this conversation and now would be a bad time to lose her hard-earned control.

Tank gestured that she should take a seat in one of the guest chairs and then sat beside her instead of moving behind the desk.

"Not at all," he answered, confirming her guess. "In fact, it's just about everyone's fault but yours."

Now she was confused. "What do you mean?"

"Steph, I've got a pretty good idea about what happened between the two of you six months ago. I was in the control room when you left."

"Les told me. He said you deleted the video." That would be the video of her practically falling down seven flights of stairs trying to get out of the building. Stephanie looked down and saw that her hands were clasped together so tightly her knuckles were white. She forced her fingers to relax and raised her eyes back to his. "Thank you."

"I should have stopped you. Or said something. I don't know." He ran a hand over his shorn scalp in what was the ultimate expression of frustration for him.

"I don't think that would have helped," she said, wanting to reassure him. It helped that she wasn't just saying it. "It might have made everything worse."

"What it boils down to is we all care about you. A lot. You couldn't be more important to us if you'd been in the service with us. We can see that you're hurting, even if Ranger doesn't. We see it, and we know it's him causing it."

Tears pricked her eyes and she looked away, taking a deep breath. "Tank, I-" and her words faltered. She forced herself to meet his eyes again, but nothing would come out so she opted to close the distance between them, wrapping her arms as far around his massive shoulders as she could.

Words had never been her strong suit, and in her family food had been the way to communicate affection, but for some reason these men, with all their weapons and training, made it easy to express herself physically. Maybe it was how physical they had to be in order to be good at their jobs.

Whatever it was, Tank didn't hesitate to hug her back, his arms enveloping her completely. They stayed like that for a long moment before Stephanie pulled back and he placed her in her seat as easily as if she were a small child.

"Man, you're huge," she hiccupped, wiping her nose with a tissue he handed her from a box on Ranger's desk.

He flashed her a grin that lit his face and then sobered, dipping his head to meet her eyes with his own.

"Ranger loves you, but his pride keeps getting in the way of telling you. He fucked up and now he can't see past it. So he follows you around, sees you getting on with your life, and he's got himself all ass-backward, saying things he doesn't mean. Slipping because he can't say what he _does_ mean to you. And we're all jumping in to protect you. None of us wants to see you get hurt any more than you already are."

Stephanie was pretty sure that was the most Tank had ever said to her in one go. As with most of the Merry Men, Tank was usually a man of few words. She'd learned a long while back that his silences weren't for lack of a brain, he was just the sort of guy that usually let his size and actions speak for him. Whichever was necessary.

"You jumped in to protect me?"

Tank leaned back in his seat, resting his steepled fingers against his lips, his gaze considering.

He seemed to come to a decision and leaned forward again. "I may have given him a concussion on Saturday," he said finally, brows drawn together. "He said something he didn't mean because he was angry about getting called out on following you around, but it was way off color and I just- reacted."

"You gave Ranger a concussion," Stephanie repeated tonelessly.

Tank moved his shoulder in what passed for a shrug for him. "I hit him pretty hard." He raised a brow at her. "He's fine," he added.

_Ain't that the truth?_ she thought, mulling over Tank's words.

"You want to tell me what he said to set you off?"

The blank face was back, but she could tell he was weighing the pros and cons of elaborating. "Normally I wouldn't repeat it. In fact, I don't want to, but I think maybe you can use it. That is, if you want him to come around?"

Stephanie thought about that for a minute. Did she want Ranger to pull his head out of his ass and realize they were meant to be together? Or was she too hurt to get over it? Should she just move along and give up on them ever having a relationship? She hadn't allowed herself to seriously consider any of these questions before, but something like hope was unfurling inside of her, and she knew the answer was yes. She definitely still wanted to give them a chance. She loved him too much to just give up without a fight.

She nodded decisively. "Tell me."

"I tried to talk to him about what happened between you two. I wanted him to at least start fixing the friendship you had." He gave her a small smile. "We were sparring in the gym, and I told him you were one-of-a-kind."

Tank paused and she ducked her head, feeling a blush creeping into her cheeks. "Jeez, Tank. You're going to turn me into an emotional mess if you keep telling me how great you all think I am."

He tipped her chin up. "It's all true. We don't gang up on the boss for just anyone."

"Okay, keep going before I start crying again."

"This is the bad part, and you're going to be pissed." He took a deep breath. "I just hope you can believe he didn't mean it. You know that Ranger doesn't just run his mouth. You've got to know he must be wound tight to even let something like this cross his mind, let alone his lips."

"Just spit it out, Tank. I can handle it."

"He loves you."

"Fuckin' A, Tank. What did he say?"

"I said you hadn't been with Morelli for months and that he needed to get his act together because you're one-of-a-kind and he said," and here Tank took another deep breath, seeming to brace himself against the words he was about to repeat, "'So you fuck her.'"

Stephanie expelled a breath like she'd been kicked in the gut. She _felt_ like she'd been kicked in the gut. He said that? _About her?_

Tank gave her a minute, concern plain on his face. "Bomber, if he'd meant it, he never would have said it aloud."

Stephanie knew Ranger well enough to know that was the truth. If he didn't care he wouldn't be following her around and he wouldn't have bothered to say anything at all to Tank, let alone something so blatantly offensive. It still hurt like a bitch.

She took a moment, gathering her fractured emotions, acknowledging the hurt and the deep, throbbing anger that accompanied it. Accepting it made it easier to bear. She was long done with denial.

"There's no way I'm just going to go to him and hand him another shot," she said after a long pause. "If I'm going to fight for him, he needs to fight for me, too."

"Absolutely. And the best way to get Ranger to stand up and pay attention is for you to put yourself in what he'll consider a bad situation."

"You want me to get in trouble?" She couldn't keep the incredulity out of her voice.

Tank laughed and some of the tension drained out of her at the sound. She took a shaky breath and smiled grimly.

"No, no stalkers or psychos. Maybe just let him see you with the wrong guy. It would have to be a guy he'd be worried was going to really hurt you. Preferably a guy that would hurt you emotionally but not physically. A guy he thought was going to hurt you physically might just disappear and never be seen or heard from again.

"And," he continued, "It can't be a guy he thinks might be good enough to make you happy. The Merry Men are out, and I know you and Morelli are still close, but I'm pretty sure using him for this would back fire."

Stephanie nodded slowly. "Okay, so we've got a basic plan. I'll think about potential dates. But if everyone is going to benefit from this, including RangeMan as a company, you guys are going to have to stop standing up for me."

Tank frowned. "That's going to be difficult. Half the guys are ready to jump down his throat as it is."

"Talk to them. Tell them whatever you want. But confronting Ranger about his relationship with me is putting his authority over the men in general in question, and that's dangerous. I'll quit and leave before I'll see any of you hurt because someone doesn't trust Ranger's judgment in the field." She took a steadying breath. "You're all just going to have to trust me."

"Alright, Bombshell, but if he fucks this up again, I won't be held responsible for what happens to Ranger. And I don't think I'll do much to help him if that's the way it goes down."

Stephanie was already formulating a plan in her mind and she felt dangerous as she gave Tank a deadly grin. He quirked a brow at her and she laughed.

"I won't let him fuck this up."

#

The first stage of her plan had been implemented and Stephanie stared into the toilet bowl, hoping the first big push hadn't been too hard.

She gagged, shoulders shaking, but everything had come up and gone down the toilet already. Her skin felt clammy and she didn't know if she could, or should, finish out the rest of the work day.

When she'd felt his mouth on hers, his arms wrapping around her, and the proof that he still wanted her pressed against her core, it had been so hard to maintain her control.

She'd wanted to shove him down on the floor and ride him like Zorro. She'd wanted to tell him she loved him and she missed him. But for the plan to work, for Ranger to realize that they were perfect for each other, she would have to make him fight for it.

She would have to make him come to her.

Tank was right, of course. The best way to get Ranger to come to her rescue was to get herself in trouble. And this time, it was going to have to be heart trouble.

Stephanie forced herself to her feet, cursing her weak knees. She moved to the sink, washed her face, and used her finger and some of Lester's toothpaste to brush her teeth. She could do a better job when she got home.

Lester didn't have a brush, so Stephanie had to use her fingers to fix her ponytail. She had some eye serum and a tube of mascara in one of her cargo pockets, a habit she'd developed when this little snafu had started six months ago.

She was about to leave the bathroom when she heard a knock from the corridor. She stepped into the main room and Lester came through the door.

"Hey, Beautiful. You okay?" He came toward her, his brows drawn together in concern.

Stephanie managed a small smile and nodded. "Yeah. I just needed a minute to pull myself together."

Lester ducked down a bit so his eyes were almost on a level with hers. "You've been crying."

"It's okay. It was just a bit much there for a minute. I'm fine now."

"You sure?"

The genuine concern in his slate green eyes was going to make her start crying again, so she reached out and gave him a little shove in the shoulder.

"You're not really worried. You just had to take advantage of me being in your apartment," she teased. She could tell he knew what she was doing, but he went along with it, pulling her into his arms and resting his chin on the top of her head.

"Absolutely. So let's get naked."

She squirmed against him and his arms tightened, holding her flush against his chest.

"You know you want it," he continued, pretending not to notice her struggling, a laugh in his voice.

Stephanie decided to bust out the big guns. She'd learned something very interesting about Lester over the past six months; he was terribly ticklish.

Ceasing her struggles, Stephanie dug her fingers expertly into his ribs, wiggling them skillfully so that he let out a sharp bark of laughter and jumped away from her.

"That's cheating," he growled, advancing on her with a wicked gleam in his eyes.

"Oh, no. You're way bigger than me and that's the only way I could get away without trying to hurt you. Which wouldn't work anyway." She danced away from him, pleased that her forced lightening of the mood was actually starting to work. Fake it 'til you feel it.

He shook his head and his stance became predatory. He stalked toward her and she tried to dodge around him, but he was too big and the apartment was too small.

Lester caught her up in his arms and proceeded to tickle her mercilessly. She wiggled and shrieked, trying unsuccessfully to fend him off, finally gaining a little room as she turned the attack back on him.

He shrank back from her clever fingers and her feet hit the floor. She scrambled backward, knocking into a counter and tripping over herself.

Lester lunged but she rolled aside, turning in the direction of the back of the apartment. There was nothing there but the entertainment and sleeping area, but she thought maybe she could get enough room to dodge him and make a break for the door.

For a big guy, he was incredibly fast, though, and he caught her mid leap around the middle and tossed her onto the couch where he could tickle her thoroughly.

She was gasping and shaking with laughter, trying to yell at him to knock it off but unable to catch her breath. His phone squawking finally stalled his assault.

"We're not done," he threatened, his comical scowl ruining the effect of his dangerous tone.

She grinned up at him and he dropped a kiss on her nose before standing and taking the phone off his belt.

"Talk."

He waited for a moment, his eyes fixed on her face and he winked at her.

"Be right there."

He disconnected and offered her a hand that she accepted so he could pull her to her feet.

"What's up?" she asked, straightening her clothes and rebinding her hair.

He tugged her ponytail. "Tank. Says Ranger took off and he wants to talk to everyone while the boss is gone."

Stephanie grimaced. "The big plan," she said and Lester lifted a brow.

She shook her head and grabbed his hand, pulling him toward the door.

"You're about to hear all about it."

#

The conference room always seemed crowded with so many massive men crammed into it, Stephanie thought as she took a seat next to Tank at the table.

Lester was on her other side and the rest of the group was filled out with Binkie, Junior, Cal, Hal, Zero, Zip, Bobby, Woody, and Ram. All the Merry Men she'd built the strongest friendships with since she'd started working at RangeMan.

"So everyone here knows the boss is being a dick, and we all know it's because he's got it bad for Bomber," Tank began. There were a few chuckles, but mostly the crowd seemed serious about the business they were there to conduct.

Stephanie felt a little embarrassed to have all these men coming together to help her with her love life, but shelved the emotion. They wouldn't offer to help her if they didn't really want to, and she didn't have the luxury of looking the proverbial gift horse in the mouth. If this plan was going to work, they all needed to be in on it.

"Stephanie and I have come up with a plan of sorts to straighten Ranger out. This meeting is to discuss the finer points of Operation She's The Boss."

Stephanie coughed and the room filled with male laughter.

Lester slapped her on the back and she gave him a shove.

"Okay, okay. All joking aside, let's get down to business."

Tank proceeded to outline the plan to the rest of the men. They only real roll they had to perform was to keep track of Ranger and let her know when he was following her. Their other job was to do nothing.

They weren't allowed to talk about Stephanie to Ranger at all if they could help it, and should he continue to exhibit signs of foot-in-mouth syndrome, they had to keep their own lips sealed and do their best to pretend they hadn't heard anything unless it was something they could feed to Stephanie as ammo.

This brought grumbling all around, but they conceded to a man that it was necessary if they were going to maintain discipline and keep Ranger from alienating his employees.

When the meeting was adjourned and the men were filing out, Stephanie found herself alone in the conference room with Lester. The door was still open and she saw Tank lean around the jam, tapping the face of his watch. Ranger was on his way back.

Lester stepped close to her. "Too bad I can't be the lucky schmuck to threaten you, Beautiful," he said.

"I like you too much to play games like that with you, Les. Plus, it would defeat the purpose." She brushed a speck of lint off his shirt, staring at his chest.

He tipped her chin up with a finger, forcing her to meet his gaze. "Scared you won't want Ranger anymore if you play the game with me?" he asked, and his voice was only half teasing.

She shook her head sadly. "No, I'm scared I'd want you both. Wanting two good men at once is havoc."

"Oh, you're good," he said and tapped her nose with his forefinger.

He smiled at her but his eyes were serious. "If he fucks this up, I won't be fool enough to walk away," he promised. He grabbed her around the waist, pulled her against his chest and brushed a gentle kiss over her lips before putting her away from him and walking out of the conference room.

Stephanie plopped down into one of the conference chairs, her heart skittering rapidly.

"Fuckin' hormones," she growled.

#

Stephanie quietly unlocked her apartment and slipped through the door, gun drawn. She searched the small dwelling quickly and efficiently and locked the door only after she was certain the entire place was safe. No more surprises.

She'd left RangeMan about five minutes after the conference for Operation She's The Boss concluded. Her heart had started thumping painfully in her chest when she'd spotted Ranger pulling into the garage as she was pulling out.

Their eyes met as they passed each other and she'd forced herself to maintain both his gaze and her blank face. His face was equally blank and she hoped it was a mask as much as hers was.

Unbuckling her belt, Stephanie stepped into the kitchen and put her gear on the counter. She flipped through the missed calls on her caller ID.

Four calls from her mother, one from her dad's cell, two from Lula, and a call from the bonds office. Connie probably had some skips for her.

The day had been extremely draining and Stephanie decided she'd return calls between gun practice and the beginning of her shift at RangeMan the next morning.

There was one phone call she needed to make tonight, though, and it couldn't wait.

Heaving a sigh, she opened the fridge and grabbed a couple grapes and a carrot to drop into Rex's cage. He darted out of his soup can, stuffed a grape into his cheek pouch, whiskers jiggling happily, and then darted back into his little shelter.

"Good to see you, too, buddy," she said and grabbed a beer and a box of TastyKakes for herself before heading into the living room. She dropped down on the couch and unlaced her boots, toeing them off before she opened a drawer in her side table and pulled out a small white business card.

There was one name on it and a phone number beneath that. The number was ridiculous: 555-555-5555. She would have thought it was a joke if she didn't know the person the number would connect her to.

The last time she'd seen him had been after their little adventure in the Pine Barrens. It had been a time full of unbelievable events and unlikely people, including a man claiming to be the Easter Bunny, Sasquatch and, of course, The Jersey Devil. The business card had been mysteriously propped against the phone in her kitchen after he vanished, with his hand on her ass, no less.

Taking a deep breath, Stephanie turned on her cordless phone and dialed the number.

The fucker had a call back tone that played in place of the normal ringing and it was with a grimace that she realized the tune was the X-Files theme song.

"Well, hello, Sugar. I was beginning to think you'd never call."

"You owe me a favor."

There was a popping noise from the kitchen, like someone bursting a single bubble-wrap bubble, and Stephanie jumped.

A large shape filled the doorway and Stephanie felt the cordless drop from her fingers.

"What can I do for you?" Diesel asked, flashing her the full dimple grin, and Stephanie prayed fervently to any god that would listen that she hadn't made a huge mistake.

#

**YO:** Okay, so obviously I decided Diesel is going to be in this story. I wasn't sure until I started writing the scene with Tank and Stephanie in Ranger's office. I had a vague idea that if he was in it, this is what I'd be using him for, but I wasn't sure he would show up. You just never know with Diesel.

The jury seemed pretty tied as to whether or not he should make an appearance, so I'd like to keep everyone calm by letting you know that no, Stephanie will not be having sex with Diesel. He has a certain function to perform and he's going to behave himself. Mostly. Or at least, enough.

Stephanie and the Merry Men are ready to begin Operation She's The Boss, and Ranger has already decided he's going to fight for Stephanie. Anything worth having is worth fighting for.

And Lester... Ooh, I'm definitely going to be writing a separate story for the Lester of this story. And it will have plenty of smut, I promise.

I look forward to hearing what you think of this, my longest chapter. It clocks in at over seven-thousand words before the preface and afterward and, double spaced, takes up about thirty-three pages.

Be sure to check out my Photobucket album to see pictures of some of my major players, including Tank and Diesel: tinyurl . com / plumdirty.


	6. Chapter 6

**UPDATE:** Don't know what happened, but for some reason this chapter ended uploading without most of the punctuation marks, so here's the copy that actually makes sense. Sorry if you got a look at the messed up copy. Wasn't my fault.

**NOTE:** Woohoo! Over 100 reviews before even reaching six chapters. I love you guys! I tried to have this posted yesterday, but I was falling asleep at the keyboard and only got about halfway through before I had to sleep. I'm a little more caught up on the z's today, but it's still almost four in the morning here. I seriously wish I could just give sleep up all together. Maybe learn a new language instead.

I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as you've enjoyed the others. I'm really pleased with it, so we'll see.

Diesel is here! Being his usual charming and sensitive self, of course he'll help Steph with her heart troubles, but who knows what mayhem will ensue with him pushing Ranger's buttons. I really have no idea.

This chapter is a little shorter, topping off at just short of 6,000 words, but I don't want to limit myself or ruin natural timing by following a fixed layout.

Also, while this chapter has little in the way of actual Stephanie/Ranger interaction, that will change in chapter seven. I promise heated communication on a number of levels between our two favorite bounty hunters in the next update.

**SPOILERS:** Up to _Plum Spooky_. I haven't read books fourteen or fifteen yet, so whatever happened in those has no bearing on this story.

**RATING:** This chapter, mostly just language. No smut, not even the soft kind unless you include mentions of certain male reactions to sexy women. Sorry.

**CHAPTER SIX:**

Ranger closed the door and dropped his keys and Glock into the silver tray on the sideboard. He padded to the kitchen, pulled open the fridge and stared at the contents.

It was packed with the usual selection of what Stephanie had always referred to as 'rabbit food' and he realized there hadn't been a single slice of Wonder Bread or a jar of peanut butter in his kitchen for months. Even his cupboards felt lonelier without her.

Selecting a beer and a tuna sandwich, Ranger headed for the living room and slouched into the couch, powering up the flat screen with the remote. He flipped through channels and sipped at his beer, but nothing was good enough to keep his interest. The only thing on his mind was Stephanie.

He couldn't believe she'd taken him off guard like that. The way she'd heated him up in his office and then smacked him down had been completely contrary to what he thought he knew about her.

Before their fallout, Stephanie could barely string together a coherent sentence after one of their kisses. Even burning for her he'd always been in control of the situation, calling the starts and most of the stops.

Downstairs, the control had been all hers. She'd set him up and knocked him down, and if it hadn't been for the heat of her body pressed against his thigh and the pulse visibly pounding in her throat, he would have thought she was completely unaffected by the contact. Her voice had been so cold and her choice of words had been a slap to the face.

_She knew_. She knew he'd made that sick, derogatory remark to Tank and how it had ended. Her meaning had been clear and the only thing that kept him from believing there was no chance for them after what he'd done was the hurt he'd seen in her eyes. There one moment and gone the next, but he'd seen it.

At one point he might have been able to exploit that hurt. He could have said 'please' and she would have melted into him, willing to do just about anything he asked. But that Stephanie seemed to be gone.

He was angry one of the guys had told her about his diarrhea of the mouth. He hadn't meant it and had regretted it the moment he said it. The Merry Men were just as likely to share inter-office gossip as Connie and Lula at the bonds office. Gossip, true or not, was really the least of his problems, however.

Ranger had always admired the way Stephanie never gave up. Even with Morelli and her mother browbeating her into conforming to the 'Burg mold of housewife and mother, she'd never given up on who she wanted to be.

She'd been shot, tortured, kidnapped, involved in a number of fires and explosions, rolled in garbage, almost raped, stabbed and even locked in a coffin, not to mention any number of other life threatening events that would have made plenty of highly trained professionals shit their pants. Yet she still managed to stay true to herself while maintaining a tight grip on her sanity. Ranger had seen men much more qualified to handle such stressful situations crack under less pressure.

When the going got tough, Stephanie got going. And usually pissed off. Now she'd impressed him again, building skills that made her a highly effective BEA and learning how to take control of her emotions. Gone were the days when anyone with eyes could read almost every thought and emotion she had. And the hot Italian temper had been replaced with a cold, driven fury.

Stephanie had been mad at him plenty of times. He'd been pushing her buttons for years and he was used to seeing and hearing her anger directed at him. He'd always found it mostly amusing, sometimes frustrating, and occasionally, even irrational. There'd been many times that he'd used his own control and the force of his will to manipulate her into doing what he wanted, or at least accepting his decisions, even if they had her angry enough to spit. The anger he'd caught a glimpse of today was something else entirely, and he wasn't sure how to proceed. Stephanie knew what she wanted, but he wasn't sure it was him.

He wanted to tell her how empty his life felt without her in it. That he loved her without exceptions. That he hated that she didn't seem to need him anymore. He wanted her to know that the loss of what relationship they had was negatively affecting every aspect of his life.

She didn't call for rides or rescues. Skips were met by a Stephanie that showed up with a gun, flak vest, and a blank face. She didn't lose cuffs or get shocked with her own stun gun. Stephanie was finally turning into a bona fide badass bounty hunter, and with the exception of using resources provided her because of her access to RangeMan, she was doing it without his help.

The fucking beer wasn't going to cut it tonight. Ranger chugged the rest of the bottle and then headed for his liquor cabinet. He brought down a bottle of Jack Daniels and poured two fingers into a shot glass, knocking it back with barely a grimace. The first shot always burned the hardest, but the next two went down smooth as silk.

After five shots the hard edge on his emotions had dulled. He put the bottle up, refusing to take his mild buzz to the next level, and headed into his office.

He didn't know why he was torturing himself, but he had to know that she'd gotten home safe. _Liar_, he thought as he booted up the computer. _You know exactly why you're doing this. You feel closer to her when you do it, even if it is just an icon on the screen. It reminds you of when she liked knowing you were out there, doing the Batman bit, watching her back_.

Shoving those thoughts away, Ranger accessed the LoJack network and brought up Stephanie's Miata. The map on the screen scrolled and zoomed until the view was of Stephanie's apartment building, the icon that represented her car sitting in the parking lot next to the dumpster.

The satellite image clearly showed the fire escape that clung to the building and Ranger thought about her sitting out on the grate on a hot day, maybe wearing a pair of tiny shorts to expose her long, shapely legs. All he had to do was think about her and he was hard. Ranger shifted in his seat and adjusted himself.

He glanced out the window and saw that the last of the light had gone out of the sky. The clock said it was almost ten pm. What was Stephanie doing? Watching television? Sleeping? Maybe she was in the shower...

Forcibly halting that train of thought, he activated the tracker filter and brought up the schematics of her apartment building. The image shifted and he was looking at a layout of her apartment. One icon was near her front door, and he knew that would be her purse hanging on a hook in the foyer. The other icon, the one for her holster, was in the kitchen.

He felt like a voyeur even though he couldn't actually see her. He sat up a little straighter when the holster-icon moved from the kitchen into the living room where it stopped approximately where her coffee table was. He smiled as he realized she even had the gun at hand while in her apartment, keeping it near while she moved from one room to the other.

Ranger could picture her so clearly. She'd be sitting on the couch, probably eating some of that sugary crap she favored. Vividly remembering the lean muscles of her body pressed against his, and the vision she'd made grinding on the dance floor Friday night, it obviously wasn't presenting a problem. He thought about her tucked into the corner of the couch, her small feet drawn up beneath her, her breasts swaying beneath a little knit tank, or maybe she was swathed in one of his old t-shirts, missing him like he was missing her.

_Yeah right, Manoso_, he thought derisively.

It was more than the sexuality of their relationship that he missed. How bad he wanted her physically factored high into his attraction for her, but it was way more than that. It was her acceptance of who he was. She'd seen the darkness in him and hadn't turned away.

They didn't talk about it, never had, but he knew she knew about Abruzzi. She knew he was a killer and it didn't scare her. She'd always been far more afraid of the damage he'd do to her heart. She'd had cause; he hadn't been good to her heart on more than one occasion.

Now he was aching for her. The quiet companionship she'd offered on so many occasions, sitting snugged up to him on the couch, her head on his shoulder and his arm around her. He could close his eyes and almost smell the floral scent of her hair under his jaw and the warmth of her fingers on his thigh.

She'd teased him about being Batman, and sometimes he'd thought she was half serious, but when he'd come to her for help to find Julie and stop Scrog, she'd gotten a glimpse of the man behind the blank mask.

When they'd found Scrog's apartment and the mock family album he'd constructed from various surveillance photos, including ones of Ranger with Julie, she'd been aware of his fear and she'd quietly slipped her hand into his, offering him her support.

She'd gotten a bomb strapped to her chest, for fuck's sake. For him. And she'd never hesitated, never told him it was too much.

The look in her eyes just before Scrog shot him had almost been enough to break him. Her blue eyes had been full of tears, her face contorted with fear, all for him, and when the gun had gone off, he'd heard her scream and it had been a sound of profound grief.

The expression on her face when he'd pushed her away from him, blankly telling her, "I'm proud of you, Babe," before releasing her, had been much the same as the look she'd had when she'd seen him walk in front of Scrog's gun.

It hit him, suddenly, exactly what he'd done to her. He'd severed himself from her and taken way even his friendship, which she'd told him was so important to her. He'd belittled the sacrifices she'd made for him. She'd defended him when he'd been falsely accused of murdering Homer Ramos and when Scrog framed him for kidnapping his own daughter.

Ranger pushed away from the desk and left the office. He grabbed his gun and his keys, taking the elevator to the garage. He had to see her. Just for a moment. Take a little piece for himself and then go.

#

Diesel was giving her the full, blazing benefit of his smile. Relaxed with one shoulder leaning against the wall and his arms folded across his broad chest, she was having difficulty swallowing.

His grin widened fractionally and Stephanie pulled herself together, carefully schooling her features into the now-familiar blank face. She bent to pick up the cordless phone from the floor in front of the couch where she'd dropped it when he'd stepped into view. It probably didn't matter that she had her expression under control; he had a habit of reading her mind.

When she'd called him she wasn't sure he'd answer. When he'd answered, she was sure he would be too busy doing whatever it was Diesel did to help her in any capacity, but she knew if there was anyone that would get Ranger's attention, it was him.

Ranger disapproved of Diesel the same way Morelli had disapproved of Ranger. He thought Diesel was dangerous, unpredictable, and capable of putting her into life threatening situations with scary people. The irony wasn't lost on her.

Clicking the off button on the cordless, she let her eyes wander over him, taking in the battered boots, faded and ripped jeans riding low on his narrow hips and the thin, olive drab cotton of the t-shirt stretched over his muscular shoulders. His sandy blond hair hung to his jaw in the front and brushed his collar in the back. His face was tanned a little darker than it had been last time she'd seen him and he was sporting some sexy stubble on his jaw.

Sweeping her eyes back to his after a long perusal of his body, she raised a brow at him as he waggled his own brows suggestively.

"I didn't expect you to just pop into my kitchen," she said as he sauntered over to her.

"I'm full of surprises."

"What are you doing here?"

"You called me, doll. You tell me." His eyes swept to her beer sitting untouched on the coffee table. "You gonna drink that?"

Stephanie grabbed the beer, pulling it close. "Get your own."

Diesel laughed and wandered back into the kitchen. She heard the fridge open and close before he came back and lowered himself onto the couch next to her.

"Couldn't you just make one appear in your hand?" she asked.

"Not with you watching." He laughed when her eyes narrowed. "You need a favor?" he prodded, popping the top off his Corona.

_Now or never_, she thought, and dove right in. She told him about breaking up with Morelli and going to Ranger. When she got to the part where Ranger rejected her it was a struggle to keep her emotions in check, especially when Diesel's face darkened with an angry scowl. She managed it, though, and brought him up to speed, finishing what she felt was a ridiculously long speech with her request.

Diesel slouched back into the cushions, his face thoughtful, which was a little disconcerting. She couldn't remember him ever looking thoughtful before. He took a long pull from his beer and then swirled the contents around.

"You want me to date you," he finally said and there was a smile in his voice somewhere.

"I just unload six months of my bleeding heart on you and that's all you've got to say?" she demanded, feeling her control slip.

"This was one of those times I was supposed to be sensitive, wasn't it?"

Stephanie glared at him while taking a swig off her bottle. "I wouldn't want to expect too much," she answered.

"If you want me to take you out, you didn't have to come up with this whole story about Ranger," he replied, grinning, and then raised his arms defensively when she hurled a pillow at him.

"Okay, okay! Truce," he laughed. "I'm sorry. You just looked so serious. When the hell did you learn the blank face?"

"Coping mechanism," she grumbled, pulling another pillow into her lap and hugging it to her chest. "I couldn't have gotten this far without it."

Diesel slid closer to her so that his knee was touching her foot. Heat started creeping north from the contact and she shifted back. "Can't you turn that off?" she demanded.

"Do I have to?"

She narrowed her eyes and he held his hands up again, this time in supplication. "Right. It's just that you're hot."

Stephanie couldn't stop a corner of her mouth from kicking up at that. He wasn't half bad himself. It didn't hurt that he still smelled as good as she remembered. Like Christmas, cookies, and lots of mind-numbing sex.

"I'm not busy, and you're right, after the Wulf thing I do owe you, so I'm going to play along and help you bag Ranger. I'll even mostly behave myself, but I won't stop you from throwing yourself at me. I'm only human." She raised a brow. "Okay, mostly human, but definitely all man," he amended.

"You'll really do this?"

"Should be good for shits and giggles. Ranger's gonna flip when he thinks I'm sniffing around you."

"What is it with you two, anyways?"

"He thinks I'm dangerous. I think he's too uptight." He sobered up, his brown eyes assessing. "You think this is a good idea?"

"I don't know what else to do. I'm worried that if I just go to him everything will be the way it was before. Ranger limbo. Plenty of spark, great friendship, and a heaping dose of denial that includes me pretending I don't want more and him pretending he doesn't notice." Stephanie drank down the last of her beer. "I want all or nothing."

"And if you end up with nothing when this is all over?"

She thought about that for a minute. "You know, I've been pretty good about not doing the denial thing for the past six months, but I'm gonna fall back on that right now and just pretend that it's not even a possibility. I have to believe this is going to work."

"Fair enough."

"How much time can you give me?"

"I'm on vacation. We've got all the time in the world." He smiled at her and tugged on a curl that had come loose from her ponytail. "I'm not going to get shot, am I?"

Stephanie laughed. "Will it kill you?"

"No, but I hate getting shot. Hurts like a bitch."

"That's actually one of the reasons I thought of you. I'm hoping no one gets dead for this one."

"It wasn't my rugged good looks?" he asked, smiling at her but keeping the dimples in reserve.

She shrugged. "They help," she conceded. "The two key arguments in your favor are that, you're right; Ranger will flip if he gives a damn about me at all, and I'm counting on him giving a huge and resounding damn. The second reason is that neither of us are likely to get attached due to our little deception."

"Who says I wouldn't get attached?"

Stephanie gave him a disbelieving look, sure it clearly said what she thought of that matter.

"Now you're reading _my_ mind," he laughed. "And what about you? You think you can act like we're dating and not fall in love with me?"

He took in her expression, laughing once more. "Ouch. Glad we got that out of the way."

Diesel reached for the TV remote and flipped to a UFC match before leaning back and pulling her close to his side with one long arm. "This should be interesting."

#

It felt like she never just slept anymore. She was dozing against Diesel's side, his arm still draped around her and her fuzzy throw draped over her legs, courtesy of one of Diesel's sensitive moments.

Diesel was still awake, watching Cartoon Network. It wasn't the cartoons that had stirred her, however, but her phone ringing on the coffee table. Diesel shifted and snagged the phone, checking the caller ID.

"RangeMan," he said, handing her the handset.

Stephanie took it and brought it to her ear, knowing it would be one of the guys with a warning that Ranger was heading her way.

"Yo," she answered.

"Ranger just left the building and it looks like he's en route to your apartment."

Stephanie recognized Bobby's voice on the line and relaxed. She'd been sure it wasn't Ranger calling, but she'd still tensed in the event that it would be.

"Thanks, Bobby."

"No problem, Bomber. Any luck finding a date willing to play the game?" he asked.

Stephanie turned her eye to Diesel, who was watching her with a little smile on his face. "He's sitting next to me."

"You can sure line 'em up, Bomber. Watch yourself." He disconnected and she turned the phone off, placing it back on the table.

"Ranger on his way?" Diesel said, not sounding surprised.

She nodded. "I doubt he'll put in an actual appearance, but it wouldn't hurt for you to move around in front of the window a little bit in ten to twenty minutes."

"We could put on a little show," Diesel suggested. "Play a little tonsil hockey where he would get an eyeful." He waggled his eyebrows and grinned.

Stephanie tried to frown at him, but it was hard. He was too damned likable. "The point isn't to make him jealous so much as it is to push him to admitting he wants a relationship with me. I think we can hold off on the 'tonsil hockey'."

Diesel managed to look crestfallen and she leaned into him, bumping him with her shoulder. "I'll try not to break your heart, big boy."

"As long as you think I have one, I guess it's okay."

They turned their attention back to the TV. Peter Griffin was in the middle of a vicious hand-to-hand battle with a giant chicken in typical over-the-top fashion, and Stephanie had to admit it was pretty funny.

The episode was just wrapping up and Diesel stood. He moved to the window and fiddled with the AC unit for a moment, making himself visible to anyone, namely Ranger, sitting in the parking lot. He took his time pretending to adjust the temperature and then lowered the blinds until they covered everything by the AC unit.

"That should give him some food for thought," Stephanie commented as Diesel returned to the couch.

"He knows I pop in now and then. Odds are good he'll think that's what's going on now," Diesel replied. He bent and unlaced his boots, kicking them under the coffee table.

"Maybe he'll think that tonight, but hopefully, after today, he'll be thinking maybe you're here for another reason. We're going to reinforce that belief by going dancing tomorrow night."

Diesel stood again. "You want another beer?"

"Sure."

When he came back from the kitchen he sat beside her once more and handed her the Corona, taking a swallow from his own.

"Dancing?" he asked, wiping his mouth with the back of his wrist.

"You got a problem with dancing?" she returned, lifting a brow and sipping from her own bottle.

"Not at all. I'm just wondering, what sort of dancing? Salsa? Some bump and grind?" He was amused, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

She shifted away from him as he dragged a finger from her should to her elbow. "Behave," she admonished him and he shrugged, pulling his hand back. "I was thinking the bump and grind variety, actually, but you have to promise, no unmentionable touching. I know you do that heat thing on purpose."

Diesel feigned innocence, raising his brows. "I can't help that my touch gets you all hot and bothered."

"I'd be hot and bothered by anything male and remotely attractive touching me at this point, but you've got extra... talents. So keep them to yourself."

"All of them?" He was teasing her again, his eyes dancing.

"Just the ones that involve heat traveling from anywhere you're touching me to my girlie bits, and don't grin at me like it's not something you're actually _doing_. I know the difference between what you do and what happens with anyone else I'm attracted to."

Diesel laughed outright and tweaked her nose. "Okay, no melting touch. I promise. But really, you're taking all the fun out of this."

Stephanie thought about rubbing herself all over him on the dance floor the next night, probably with Ranger watching, and felt a flush travel to her face even as she returned his grin, letting her eyes wander over his chest and shoulders slowly before returning to his eyes. The warm brown had turned to dark chocolate and she grinned wider.

"Not _all_ the fun," she assured him.

"You're got a dirty mind, Sugar," he growled.

"As long as everyone's having a good time."

#

Ranger parked on the street across from Stephanie's apartment building and stepped out onto the sidewalk. He crossed and circled the building to the parking lot in the back, his eyes drawn immediately to Stephanie's window.

Her blinds were up and the light was on in her living room but out in the bedroom. _Probably watching TV_, he thought, willing her to come to the window so he could catch a glimpse of her. Long moments passed as he leaned against her Miata, shadowed by the dumpster, before there was any movement in her apartment.

Ranger stiffened as a large, male figure moved into view, attention focused on the AC unit mounted in the window. Even at that distance he could tell who it was. Diesel.

There had been four separate occasions Ranger knew of that Diesel had appeared in Trenton and taken up residence in Stephanie's apartment. All of them had been business related, but as far as Ranger knew there hadn't been any action in New Jersey that would require Diesel's particular expertise. Unfortunately, unless Stephanie notified him of the situation, Ranger had very few connections that would know anything about Diesel's current presence.

He was, of course, aware that Diesel's line of work required him to hunt down and either aid or capture people with strange and unexplainable skills. He'd heard the term Unmentionable paired with the man and couldn't agree more that it fit perfectly.

Diesel had dangerous enemies and equally dangerous associates. As far as mysterious persons went, Diesel managed to be at, or at least near, the very top of the list. It was unlikely that Diesel was his real name, either first or last, and where he came from or where he went when he wasn't dragging Stephanie into some unbelievable mess was just a part of his mystique.

Ranger had seen the way Diesel looked at Stephanie and the idea that his presence in her apartment was of a personal nature bothered him. Deeply.

Had Stephanie shifted her sights to Diesel? She was curious by nature and had a knack, and the determination, for figuring out puzzles. Maybe the riddle that was Diesel had become too appealing for her to pass up. Maybe she had found another 'superhero' to be the focus of her affection.

Ranger had to stifle a growl at the thought of Diesel getting close to Stephanie. The scenario that had played out in his mind before started again, but instead of Santos touching her, it was Diesel.

Santos he could handle. Despite Lester's reputation as a ladies' man, Ranger knew he genuinely cared about Stephanie, and if their interaction was deeper than that of 'just friends', he could step aside and accept that he'd waited too long and had lost his chance with her. It would hurt, and he'd have to constantly battle the desire to do something stupid and macho, as Stephanie would refer to it, to Santos, but he would do his best to let Stephanie be happy with whoever she chose to be with.

Diesel was another story. His job required him to be in the wind constantly, and whenever word of him surfaced it was always in connection with volatile situations and people. The man seemed almost incapable of being killed, but he was never in one place long enough to offer a woman anything like a real relationship. If Stephanie got tangled up with Diesel, she was guaranteed to end up hurt in the end, maybe even dead in some unexplainable disaster.

When she'd gotten involved with Diesel the last time she'd been kidnapped more than once, almost blown up when a fuel depot went up in flames, and had barely escaped getting raped by that pathetic little scientist Martin Munch. She'd been lucky her neck didn't end up broken by Munch's mastermind associate Wulf Grimoire either.

Ranger continued to ponder Diesel's presence as he watched the window. Diesel had lowered the blinds, leaving nothing but a two foot gap to allow the AC unit to function. After a while, the lights went out, but he could make out the blue flicker of Stephanie's television set.

There was little he could do and plenty he could assume about Diesel being in Stephanie's apartment. Until he knew more he couldn't be sure of the other man's motives or purpose. He wouldn't even be able to ask Stephanie about Diesel without alerting her that he'd been spying on her again.

It wasn't until the television turned off that Ranger moved. Dim light suddenly shown in Stephanie's bedroom window, likely residual from the bathroom. The lights suddenly turned on and there she was, standing directly in front of the window, staring into the parking lot.

Ranger shifted so he was completely hidden, moving away from her car and fully blocking his position with the dumpster. From his place he couldn't tell if she was scanning the lot, somehow alerted to his presence, or if she was just gazing out blankly. Diesel's taller and broader silhouette appeared behind her and she turned from the window.

It was impossible to know what they were saying to each other, but he could tell when Stephanie reached out to touch Diesel and his own heart clenched painfully in his chest at the familiarity of that gesture. He thought maybe he stopped breathing when Diesel stepped close to her and wrapped her in a hug, his head bent as if he were whispering something into her ear.

Diesel reached past Stephanie, grabbed the cord to the blinds, and the pair were lost to his sight. Ranger could still see their outline illuminated by the bedroom light and then they moved away. The light shut off, and Ranger felt cold, deprived of even the peace that would come knowing Stephanie was alone in her apartment while he was alone in his.

#

"I don't see your pack. What are you going to wear when we go out tomorrow night?" Stephanie asked after Diesel had turned off the living room light and returned to the couch.

He raised a brow at her. "Something wrong with my clothes?"

She studied him critically, her eyes lingering on what looked like a mustard stain on his jeans and indeterminable splatters that dotted his shirt near the hem.

"Only if we're going out in public," she replied finally.

"You're funny," he deadpanned. "Don't worry about my clothes, Honey. By the time you get back from work tomorrow I'll be the picture of cleanliness."

"Going to summon something appropriate out of mid air?" she questioned, only half kidding. She still wasn't entirely sure exactly what Diesel could and couldn't do.

"There's that. Or I could go buy something at the mall."

"We're both just a couple of jokers." She relaxed against him as he pulled her back against his side, sipping a fresh beer. "You certainly smell good."

She felt his shrug more than saw it. "That I can't turn off. But if you start sniffing me like birthday cake, we're going to have a problem."

"I'll try to contain myself."

He squeezed her and chuckled. "That's what I love about you."

"I'm sure."

They continued to watch the entire line up of raunchy and hilariously vulgar cartoons before Stephanie felt like she couldn't keep her eyes open another moment.

"Go ahead and get ready for bed," Diesel said, either reading her mind or aware that her yawn-to-breathing ratio had seriously shifted. "I'll clean up in here."

Stephanie stood, steadying herself with a hand on Diesel's shoulder before moving to the bathroom. She didn't bother closing the door as she brushed her teeth and washed her face. She'd changed into shorts and a t-shirt earlier and now all she wanted was her bed. She wasn't even going to argue with Diesel about him sharing it with her. He'd promised to behave himself and past experience, as well as his word, said he could be trusted to keep it. Her curiosity had won out, though, when she'd gone to remove her bra. Would she wake up with it gone if she went to sleep with it on? Probably, but she couldn't resist finding out, so it stayed despite being uncomfortable after so many hours of wear.

As she was drying her face, Diesel went into the bedroom and turned on the light. She entered behind him and went to the window, staring at the parking lot and wondering if Ranger was out there, watching her.

Diesel moved close to her back as she scanned the lot, looking for Ranger.

"He's out there," he said quietly. "Over by the dumpster."

Stephanie turned and tried to compose herself when she saw the concern on Diesel's face.

"He must care if he's doing this, right?" she asked, needing reassurance from someone other than the Merry Men.

"I'd say so."

Stephanie reached out and placed her hand on Diesel's chest. "Thank you for doing this. I know it's not your usual line of work."

Diesel gathered her into a hug and she allowed herself to lean into him, breathing in his comforting scent and taking strength from his touch.

"How do you know I'm not popping in and out of women's lives, saving them from heartbreak all the time?" he teased, his breath warm against her ear.

She wrapped her arms around his waist and gave him a squeeze. "I suppose anything is possible with you around."

He reached over her shoulder and dropped the blinds. "And don't you forget it."

#

**YO:** So, Diesel's in Steph's apartment and Ranger is feeling down standing on the outside. I think he's starting to get a clue, though, and it seems like Operation She's The Boss is getting off to a good start.

I know I said this story was going to be under ten chapters, but I think I might have to retract that promise. I hope you'll all be happy to have it go over the mark. If it does go over, I assure you I'll be trying to wrap it up with a nice, satisfactory ending before it stretches on much longer than that.

I have the Lester spin-off cooking in my brain and, maybe as a very short story, a bit of a parody to write, also, when _Plum Dirty_ is done.

I so look forward to hearing your feedback. I am so grateful to you all, even if you're not reviewing. If you haven't written a review, I'd love to get one from you, even if you're hating this.

Chapter seven will be on its way soon, I promise!


	7. Chapter 7

**UPDATE:** If you read chapter six and it was missing all the apostrophes and quotation marks, sorry about that. I have no idea what caused that to happen, but I've got it fixed now. I assure you, I wrote chapter six with all the necessary punctuation in place.

**NOTE:** Thanks again, from the bottom of my heart, for your feedback. It really brightens my day and encourages me to write. The whole point of this was to work out my writer's block, and I must say, this story and your support is really helping me out. I can feel the block moving away, and the exercise of writing every day is doing wonders. Getting such amazing and positive feedback really gives me the push I need. I'm such an instant-gratification sort of person with these things;)

This chapter is loooong. I hope you like it. I'd love to write more, but it's late and I need a smoke before I go to bed and try to kill this headache.

XOXO

**SPOILERS:** Sure. Spoilered all over the damn place.

**RATING:** Language, adult situations, soft-smut, and pathos, pathos, pathos.

**CHAPTER SEVEN:**

It was without any surprise that Stephanie woke up flattened into her mattress, a product of Diesel lying half on top of her. She was on her back and he was face down in his pillow, the right side of his chest pressed against her and an arm and a leg draped over her.

"Diesel," she managed, shoving at his shoulder ineffectually. "Diesel, wake up, I can't breathe."

Diesel made a noise that might have been words and rolled to his left side, drawing her against him with the arm and leg he'd been smooshing her with.

"You smell good," he mumbled, pressing his face into her hair.

Stephanie squirmed and then froze. "You're supposed to be behaving yourself," she hissed, feeling something hard pressed against her hip, and she was pretty sure he hadn't gone to bed with a lead pipe in his shorts.

"Not my fault. And I am behaving myself." His voice was muffled by her hair and she was trying hard not to have a very feminine reaction to his raspy morning voice and appealing proximity.

"Diesel, let me up. I gotta get coffee."

He grumbled something else into her hair, but she was able to roll away from him and to her feet. She felt a smile tip up the corners of her mouth as she took in the picture he made sprawled across the sheets, his shaggy hair covering most his face and his blue boxers, decorated with little Superman shields, riding low on his hips. He must have been vacationing somewhere nice because he was uniformly tanned a warm, caramel brown and judging from the lack of a tan line near his waistband, she was guessing he'd been spending some time sunbathing in the nude. Not an unappealing thought.

Shaking her head, she grabbed her Sig off the side table and headed out of the bedroom, noticing her bra hanging from the doorknob as she passed. No surprises there, she thought as she made for the kitchen and her coffee pot.

By the time the carafe was mostly full, Diesel wandered into the kitchen, looking incredibly sexy with his hair tousled, barefoot and shirtless in his battered jeans.

"You're really set on not making this easy, aren't you?" she asked, pulling two mugs down from the cupboard.

Diesel shoved his hair out of his eyes and scratched his jaw, his calloused fingers rasping across his stubble. "I'm easy," he replied.

Stephanie decided to ignore that comment and busied herself filling their coffee mugs. She handed one to Diesel and dropped a couple bagels in the toaster, pulling out a jar of peanut butter and a table knife from a drawer.

Diesel leaned back against the counter, ankles crossed, and drank deeply of his coffee. "Why you up so early?" he questioned.

"I have a job," she answered, forcibly keeping her eyes on his face instead of all over the rest of him.

"A job that requires you to be up at six in the morning? Since when are you the early riser?"

"Since I started taking my career choice more seriously. I'm meeting Lester at the gun range before my shift starts at eight. Maybe you didn't notice, but my gun isn't in the cookie jar." Her gun, in fact, was on the counter near the coffee pot.

He turned slightly and lifted the lid off the cookie jar in question, peeking inside. "There's cookies in here."

"I know, surprising," she returned. The bagels popped and Stephanie spread peanut butter on them as Diesel munched a cookie between sips of coffee.

"You could of stayed in bed," she said as he accepted the paper plate she handed him.

"I like watching you walk around in your little shorts." His warm brown eyes did a slow slide from her face to her feet and back again, the corners of his mouth tilting up.

"Fair enough," she managed in what she hoped was a normal voice. "What are your plans for the day?"

They headed into the dining area and sat across from each other at her small table.

"Besides picking up some clothes you won't be embarrassed to be seen with me in, I don't really have any. Maybe I'll go say hello to Bernie."

Stephanie raised a brow. "The Easter Bunny?"

"It's good to keep up on Unmentionables, even ones that keep to themselves."

"I want to be out of here and heading to the club around nine," she told him and drained the rest of her coffee.

"I'll be here when you get back from work."

"Great. You want some more coffee?" she gestured to his mostly-empty mug.

"Sure." He handed her the cup and she went back into the kitchen to refill them and drop a couple Cheerios into Rex's aquarium.

They finished their breakfast and Stephanie headed into the bathroom while Diesel plopped down on the couch, flipping on the television.

She hopped into the shower and quickly did her hair and make-up, slicking some curl serum through the dark strands and packing on the eyeliner and mascara. She belted on her robe and crossed into her bedroom to pull on her uniform of fitted black cargo pants and her black RangeMan t-shirt.

Stephanie had finally managed to get some uniform shirts that were long enough to tuck into her pants, and she had to admit, she looked like a genuine badass with all her gear on.

Her boots were next to Diesel's under the coffee table, and she padded in her stocking feet to the couch, sitting next to him to lace up. He'd pulled on his t-shirt at some point, but his feet were still bare and propped up on the table, a heap of cookies sitting on his stomach.

Boots laced, she went into the kitchen and fetched her utility belt off the counter where she'd left it and clipped her holster and cell phone in place.

"I'm out of here," she called to Diesel as she snagged her purse.

"See ya," he called back, eyes trained on the TV and a cookie in his hand.

Stephanie left the apartment and took the stairs to the lot. She scanned the cars, looking for anything out of place but not expecting to see anything. It had been a while since she'd had any crazy stalkers, and it probably would have been a good idea to start paying attention while they'd still been a reoccurring problem, but it didn't hurt to be aware of her surroundings now.

The drive to RangeMan didn't take long and Stephanie parked the little black convertible near the exit and as far from Ranger's personal vehicles as possible. She locked up and gave the security camera a little finger wave before heading for the elevator.

It slid open before she could hit the call button and Lester was inside.

"Hey, Beautiful. Ready to fire off a few rounds?"

She smiled at him and stepped inside. "You bet."

Lester draped an arm around her shoulders as the elevator dropped down to the underground gun range. She wanted to talk to him about the plan and Diesel, but worried that Ranger might be watching them on a monitor somewhere in the building. She knew he could access all the security cameras from his apartment and his office on the control floor, and guessed that he was onsite since none of his cars were missing.

They spent an hour blasting holes in paper targets and Stephanie alternated between her Sig and the .38 that she'd taken to carrying in her purse as backup. She hadn't needed either gun for more than show in a while, but she was glad she'd finally started putting effort into being comfortable with the weapons.

When they were finished and had both reloaded and holstered their side arms, Lester rode the elevator with her to the fifth floor. He chucked her under the chin before heading to his cubical and she headed to hers. She had about twenty minutes before her shift would start, so she took the time to return a few phone calls.

Stephanie called her father first and made a plan to have lunch with him later. She knew that avoiding her mother wasn't doing anyone any favors in the long run, but she was really enjoying spending time with her father without the stresses of the Plum household interfering.

Once she was done speaking with Frank, she called up Lula at the bonds office. Lula had her laughing about Joyce Barnhardt's latest meeting with a stun gun during her most recent visit to Vinnie's office and promised Lula that she'd meet her for lunch the next day.

Connie was next, and Lula just handed the phone over to her so she could inform Stephanie about three new FTA's that had come in the previous day. Steph promised she'd check out their files when she came to pick up Lula the next day for lunch and disconnected. It was ten after eight and her inbox was stacked with search requests.

The day raced by and at noon Stephanie logged off and headed for the elevator. She saw Ranger standing in front of the doors, waiting for the car to show up and felt her breath catch and her stomach clench. She couldn't get in an elevator with him. No way, no how. It would either end with her throwing herself at him or something even worse, so she gave him a curt nod and ducked into the stairwell, hoping that her blank face had been firmly in place.

Stephanie took her time descending the stairs. She didn't know if Ranger had been heading up or down and didn't want to run into him in the garage. It was with a large measure of relief that she stepped into the parking lot and found it empty. Ranger's Turbo was missing and she relaxed, glad that he'd left before she could get down the five flights of stairs.

A quick peek at her watch confirmed that she was supposed to be meeting her dad in fifteen minutes and she zipped out of the garage, heading for Pino's.

Frank was waiting for her in the parking lot when she pulled in, sitting in his cab listening to a ball game on the radio. He climbed out of the taxi and embraced her when she approached, kissing her on the forehead.

"Hey, Princess," he greeted her and she smiled at him.

They entered the restaurant and sat at a booth, Stephanie facing the door and a wall at her back. She almost found it funny that she'd adopted such defensive measures in her regular life, but there'd been so many dangerous experiences that such precautions might have prevented that she didn't question her need to remain vigilant.

Frank ordered them a pie to share and they talked about her work and Valerie's kids. Grandma Mazur was driving him nuts as usual and she gathered the expression on his face said the conversation was about to lead to her mother.

"You planning on coming to dinner any time soon?" he asked.

"I don't know. Mom can't seem to get over the fact that I'm not doing the 'Burg wife bit and I think I've earned the right to my own life. I haven't even had a car blow up in months, but she still reminds me that every time she hears sirens she thinks I'm lying dead in a gutter somewhere." Stephanie popped a pepperoni into her mouth and washed it down with a swig of Coke.

"I keep telling her to lay off, but she's got it in her mind that Morelli is your last shot at becoming a respectable woman, or whatever."

"Joe and I are just friends. I'm not in love with him and he's not in love with me. I don't want kids, he does. We love each other, but it's been purely platonic for a while now. No use forcing something that will end up making us both miserable in the end."

Frank nodded. "Your grandmother seems to think you've got it in for that Ranger character."

Stephanie found herself pulling the blank face in direct response to Ranger's name and leaned back in her seat, scanning the room. Mentioning Ranger in public places had a tendency to summon him out of thin air.

When he didn't mysteriously appear she returned her gaze to her father. "At this point, my relationship with Ranger is strictly professional."

"Do you want more?"

Stephanie hesitated. Talking about Ranger with her father seemed to make the situation more real and she wasn't sure she was ready to deal with that. That would mean confronting the consequences of her plan not working out and right now, denial was her friend. Nerves would turn her into a mess if she allowed herself to think Ranger wouldn't get with the program.

"It's complicated," she finally replied and gave her dad a sad smile.

"It usually is, honey."

They finished their lunch, which Frank insisted on paying for, and Stephanie gave him another hug.

"Think about coming to dinner. I'll tell your mom to lay off and warn her if she doesn't that you'll leave in the middle." He tapped a finger to her nose. "You look like you can handle just about anything."

Stephanie looked down at herself and laughed. "Trying not to be a walking disaster requires a lot of equipment in this line of work."

"Be good. Maybe I'll see you for dinner soon."

Frank took off and Stephanie headed back to the Haywood building, thinking about what her father had said. Maybe she could bring Diesel to dinner tonight before they went out. Diesel got a kick out of her family and usually his presence caused enough of a ruckus to keep her mother focused on Grandma Mazur's questionable behavior instead of Stephanie's personal and professional life.

By the time five o'clock rolled around, Ranger was still MIA and that was just fine with Stephanie. She finished logging off her computer and slid away from her desk. Lester approached her with a smile and she couldn't help sliding an appreciative eye over him before meeting his gaze.

"Big plans tonight, Beautiful?" he asked, standing close with his thumbs hooked in his belt and his green eyes were crinkled in a smile.

She took a quick look around the control floor.

"No worries, Steph. Ranger's still out."

Relieved, she decided she could take a few minutes to bring Lester up to speed.

"Going dancing with Diesel tonight," she informed him and he laughed, throwing his head back. A few of the other guys turned in their direction and Stephanie was aware that most the guys were the ones from the Operation She's The Boss meeting. Lester would be quizzed on their conversation as soon as she got on the elevator.

"Never do anything halfway, eh, Beautiful?" he chuckled and tugged one of her curls.

"Strangely enough, I think Diesel is my safest bet. He seems to think the entire situation is an opportunity for him to have a good time."

"If he's going to be staying in your apartment I'll have to agree," Lester smirked.

Stephanie made a face. "It's not like that."

"I know, Beautiful. You've only got eyes for the boss."

Once more, Stephanie let her eyes rake over him. "Heart, yes. Eyes… My eyes are free to enjoy the scenery." She gave him a suggestive leer and he pulled her against him, his muscles hard and his green eyes soft.

"Watch it, Stephanie. You don't want to play games with me," he growled, his breath hot against her ear, his hands pressed warm and strong against her back.

Stephanie tilted her head back and to the side, studying him through lowered lashes. "You're right. I don't." She squeezed his shoulders where her hands were resting and fought to keep her eyes off his mouth.

Lester didn't seem to be experiencing the same problem. His eyes were riveted on her lips as she spoke and she pushed against his shoulders, silently asking him to release her. He did, slowly, his hands sliding around her waist before falling to his sides.

"You're a dangerous man, Lester Santos," she whispered.

He took a deep breath and smiled at her, tracing a finger along her jaw before taking a step back. "And you're a dangerous woman, Stephanie Plum." His eyes were stormy as he held her gaze. "Have fun tonight," he finally said. "Stay frosty."

He turned and headed back for his cubical, and Stephanie took a shuddering breath, grabbed her purse and headed for the elevator.

Tank caught up to her just before she could open the door to the foyer. "He's coming up the elevator," he warned her and there was no need for him to explain who "he" was.

Stephanie grimaced and then carefully blanked her expression. "Thanks," she said and Tank winked at her. She pushed through the door and hit the call button, waiting with a stone in her stomach for the doors to open.

A moment later the doors parted and Ranger was right in front of her. He looked tired, the hollows of his eyes darkened with fatigue and the little lines at their corners more pronounced than she'd seen them in a long time.

Sensing an opportunity, Stephanie let her natural inclination to be concerned for him color her expression instead of hiding it behind the usual blank mask. She hoped his obvious exhaustion was a product of a sleepless night filled with thoughts of Diesel in her apartment.

An expression she only recognized as surprise because she knew him so well flashed over his face at her concern and she let her shoulder brush against his as they passed each other. His eyes were locked on hers and she held his gaze as she turned to face the elevator doors.

He looked like he wanted to say something to her and she gave him a sad smile as the doors slid shut, so many words unspoken. Slumping against the elevator wall, Stephanie took a few ragged breaths, squeezing her eyes shut and clenching her jaw against the urge to cry or scream. The elevator doors slid open, revealing the garage and she hurried to her car, desperate to get out of the building before she did something premature; like flying back up to the fifth floor to confront Ranger, or throw herself at him. The desire to do one or the other was almost enough to make her want to be sick, but she beeped her car unlocked and slid behind the wheel, pulling out into traffic, her eyes fixed on the building in her rearview mirror and her heart on the man inside.

#

Diesel opened the door to her before she could get her keys out of her purse. It scared the crap out of her and she dropped her pocketbook, jumping to the side and pulling her gun halfway out of its holster before realizing who the culprit was.

"I thought you said you didn't want to get shot," she snapped at him and he flashed her a grin.

"My bad. I certainly didn't expect you to be so on your toes. You really have been training." He bent and picked up her pocketbook, holding it out to her as she stepped back toward the door.

Stephanie took it from him and he held the door for her so she could step into the apartment. Diesel locked up as she hung her purse on one of the hooks in the foyer and then he followed her into the kitchen.

The little emotional but wordless exchange with Ranger coupled with Diesel scaring the bejesus out of her made getting a beer in her hand priority number one. She pulled open the fridge and found a chilled cheesecake and two six packs of Mickey's Grenades sitting on the top shelf.

Smiling, Stephanie snagged one of the beers and closed the fridge. Twisting off the lid she looked Diesel up and down.

He was still in jeans and a t-shirt, but they looked new. The jeans were designer faded and the shirt only looked worn.

"Wearing that?" she asked, meeting his amused gaze.

"No, I've got something else in mind for tonight, but I figured I might as well have a few changes of clothes if I'm going to be here for a while." He already had a beer in his hand and he took a swallow of the contents. "Young lady at the store was very helpful."

Stephanie couldn't contain her grin at the thought of Diesel in a clothing store. She bet the female employees would be more than helpful if he let them, and she couldn't blame them. Under different circumstances, she might be willing to help him out herself.

"You think too loud," he warned her, his lips curled in a smirk.

She shrugged and moved to Rex's cage. There were a few raisins in his bowl and his water bottle was full, so Diesel must have fed him.

Turning to face him again she decided to bring up dinner with her parents. "I haven't been to my parents' place in a while. Wanna go to dinner?"

His smirk turned to an expectant smile. "I love your parents' house. Your grandma gonna be there?"

"Should be."

He glanced at the clock and she followed his gaze. Five-forty. They had twenty minutes to get there if they weren't going to be late.

"I'm game."

"Watch out for Grandma, or you might be dinner."

Stephanie finished her beer and dropped the empty in the garbage can. "I'm going to change real quick and then we'll go."

"I'll get my boots on."

#

Dressed in a strapless blue-on-blue printed sundress and leather flip-flops, Stephanie led Diesel to her Miata. Knowing how he was, she tossed him the keys and slid into the passenger seat.

"Your ESP is improving," he said with a smile.

"You're predictable," she returned and he laughed outright, starting the car and pulling out of the parking lot then pointing the car toward her parents house.

"What did you drive to the mall?" she asked and he gave her a blank look. "Never mind."

Ellen and Grandma Mazur were standing behind the screen door, shoulder to shoulder, when Diesel pulled the Miata to the curb. They both climbed out of the car and Diesel had an amused half-smile playing over his lips.

"Well, isn't this a surprise?" Ellen began, her voice pinched with annoyance, whether at Stephanie for being AWOL for three weeks or because she'd brought Diesel along to dinner was unknown.

Stephanie schooled her features into polite curiosity, figuring the blank face would just make her mother more prone to scathing remarks.

"Hi to you, too, Mom," Stephanie said, keeping her voice light.

Grandma Mazur swung the door open and Stephanie didn't miss the way her grandmother's eyes did an appreciative appraisal of Diesel's six-foot-one frame. She hugged the old woman and whispered into her ear, "Behave yourself, Grandma."

"Just looking," she returned with a wicked grin.

Stephanie laughed and they all moved into the living room, Diesel closing the door behind him.

Frank was sitting in his recliner, eyes locked on the television. He glanced at Stephanie and gave her a smile, which turned frozen when he spotted Diesel.

"What's the sissy doing here?" he questioned, eyes narrowing.

"Diesel's in town and thought he'd take me out to make up for last time he was around."

"Mr. Plum," Diesel greeted Frank, nodding. Stephanie thought he looked like he was suppressing a grin.

Frank just made a disgusted sound in the back of his throat and turned his attention back to the TV.

"Stephanie, could you come help me in the kitchen, please?" her mother asked, walking toward the swinging door.

Stephanie shot Diesel a look and thought, 'Be good,' at him as hard as she could, hoping his ESP wasn't taking a break. He lifted his brows in a classic 'who, me?' expression and she shook a finger at him before stepping into the kitchen.

Her mother was at the stove, stirring a pot of gravy, when she came in. Stephanie walked to the cutting board where an olive loaf was sitting out and began slicing it for the bread basket waiting on the counter.

The silence stretched on, becoming increasingly uncomfortable, before Ellen couldn't contain herself any longer and turned on Stephanie, holding the whisk like a weapon.

"What's _that man_ doing with you?" she demanded, somehow managing to wave the whisk for emphasis without splattering so much as a drop of gravy. She made 'that man' sound like 'The Devil'.

Stephanie did some mental deep breathing, summoning her calm. This was nothing compared to being in close proximity to Ranger all day.

"That man has a name and he's my friend," Stephanie returned, keeping her voice low and level. "And I'm sure he can hear you. I would appreciate it if you would refrain from making him uncomfortable."

Ellen's face locked down in a glare that only the 'Burg could breed. "You shouldn't be shuffling around with a man like that. How are you going to get back with Joseph when you're fooling around with _him_." She punctuated the end of her sentence with a jab of the whisk toward the living room.

"We're not fooling around. I told you, we're friends. I have some of those." Stephanie turned back to the bread, finished her slicing, and transported the pieces into the basket before covering it with a dish towel.

"And another thing," she said, catching her mother with her mouth wide open for another go. "Joe is another one of those friends. And he's a good friend, and I love him, but we're not a couple, have no intention of ever being a couple again, and we're both satisfied with the state of our current relationship.

"My job and my personal life are exactly the way I want them to be, and all your constant harping is doing is driving me away." Okay, maybe her personal life wasn't _exactly_ the way she wanted it to be, but aside from her love problems, she was very happy with her current relationships.

Ellen's mouth clicked shut with an audible snap. Before she could shift to another mode of attack, the kitchen door swung open and Valerie came tumbling in with Angie looking angelic and Mary Alice galloping in full-on horse mode. Valerie had little baby Lisa tucked against her hip and her Meg Ryan hairdo looked like she'd been shoving her fingers through it for the last twelve hours.

"Hey, saw your car on the curb," Val said in way of greeting to Stephanie and smiled warmly. "And you brought a friend."

"We're going out later. Thought I'd bring him to dinner as a distraction." Stephanie shot a pointed look at her mother and Valerie laughed.

"How's that working out?"

"The night's still young," Stephanie returned.

Valerie had been supportive over the last six months, finally crawling off the Stephanie-Must-Join-The-'Burg bandwagon that her mother was driving and acknowledging all of Stephanie's hard-earned improvement as a BEA and RangeMan employee. Stephanie hadn't been able to bring up her problems with Ranger to her sister, but it looked like they might be developing a genuine sibling relationship that wasn't full of biting remarks thinly veiled behind 'Burg propriety.

Dinner went well and Albert Kloughn only spilled gravy all over himself once and didn't even fall out of his chair.

'Burg etiquette required Ellen to pack an unhealthy amount of leftovers into a number of containers and a plastic shopping bag she pulled from beneath the sink. It was seven-thirty and Stephanie was ready to get out while the getting was good.

Taking the leftovers with a vague promise that she'd be over for dinner again soon, Stephanie made her goodbyes and a quick exit, pulling Diesel behind her.

They stepped out onto the porch and Stephanie took her first deep breath in over an hour, feeling like she'd just escaped from the clutches of one of many past weirdoes that had haunted her life. Diesel shot her an amused look and draped an arm around her shoulders while simultaneously taking the bag of leftovers out of her hand.

"I need a beer," Stephanie said as Diesel guided her to the Miata.

He laughed and gave her a squeeze before opening her door so she could slide into the passenger seat, dropping the leftovers onto her lap before circling and climbing in beside her.

Stephanie let her head drop back against the cushy headrest, her eyes fluttering shut. Diesel could be vigilant while they made the drive back to her place.

Once inside her apartment, Stephanie headed directly to the fridge and grabbed a couple Grenades and the cheesecake. She snagged two forks and brought the entire ensemble to the dining table. Diesel sat across from her and they wordlessly dug in, washing down cheesecake with beer.

Probably not the best combination before dancing, but Stephanie figured that since she didn't do drugs, cheesecake and beer were going to have to do in order to calm her nerves. And she had nerves.

"Stop thinking about Ranger. If he shows, he shows. The point is for him to see us together," Diesel said, interrupting her spinning thoughts.

Stephanie sighed and put the cover back over the remaining half of the cheesecake, shoving her chair back from the table and nodding in agreement.

"I know, I just hope this isn't all going to blow up in my face."

Diesel leaned back in his chair, unleashing the dimples. "How often does that happen?"

They both laughed.

#

Stephanie stepped out of the bathroom at nine on the dot feeling smokin' hot. She was dressed in knee-length black silk shorts cut to fit like slacks in all respects if you ignored the fact that they were so low-rise they barely covered her ass-crack. A wide, black-leather belt with a huge rhinestone buckle draped over her hips gave the shorts a little more definition and encouraged anyone looking to get an eyeful of her flat stomach exposed by the backless white silk halter top that draped her breasts. She'd recently invested in a self-adhesive backless bra and had so far been pleased with its performance. The halter top called for just such a piece of underwear, while the shorts called for none at all. Four-inch black sling-back stilettos with peep toes and red soles completed her outfit.

Her hair was pulled up in a messy twist that would come undone bit by bit throughout the night and her eyes were made up in a range of smoky sterling and black with plenty of kohl eyeliner and four layers of ultra-black mascara. She'd swiped a silver-glitter liquid eyeliner over the kohl, giving her eyes a little extra sparkle and black cherry lip gloss over her pout. Dangling, silver chandelier earrings almost brushed her shoulders and she'd dabbed a jasmine perfume with hints of vanilla on her pulse points and behind her knees.

Diesel's instantly darkening eyes gave her all the proof she needed that she looked good, and she was pleased to see that he cleaned up real nice.

He was dressed in black slacks that accentuated his long, muscular legs, and a charcoal gray t-shirt that clung to his ripped torso in all the right places. He was wearing black leather shoes with a high polish a slightly squared toe. He'd come out of the shower earlier clean-shaven, and his hair was now brushed back away from his face. He looked like walking sex.

Stephanie had packed a black patent-leather clutch with her necessities and, the newest addition to her mini-arsenal, a sleek little Glock 36 .45. She didn't even have to worry about carrying concealed since she'd jumped through all of New Jersey's hoops and gotten herself a CCW three months earlier. It hadn't been hard to convince the Trenton Chief of Police that she had an urgent need for self-protection with her history of crazed stalkers and would-be murderers, and having Joe vouch for her had also been helpful with the process. Being a RangeMan employee didn't hurt.

"Ready to go?" she asked Diesel, sashaying to him on her fuck-me-pumps and enjoying the look of male appreciation all over his face.

"You have no idea," he growled, reaching for her.

Stephanie placed a finger in the center of his chest, effectively halting him in mid-grab. "Ah-ah. You can put your hands all over me in the club, but I get a feeling you're going to be all melting-touch if I let you near me right now." As it was, she could feel the heat trying to blaze a path from where her finger was against his chest and she pulled her hand away.

"You're making it very hard to turn it off in that get-up," he reprimanded her. His voice lowered and he leaned forward slightly. "_Very_ hard."

Diesel's heated gaze and innuendo had her feeling a little breathless, so Stephanie did a neat little spin so he could get a good look at her and then brushed past him to snag her clutch off the breakfast counter and shrugged into her fitted black leather biker jacket.

Once in the Miata, Stephanie directed Diesel to the same club she'd been at when she'd drawn her gun on Ranger. Trenton really didn't have much going for it in the way of dance clubs, but the bass driven and cheesily named Rain fit the bill.

Rain was a newer joint and the freshly paved parking lot was a dream to walk on in four-inch heels.

Diesel came around the car and opened her door, helping her out and offering her his arm. She gave him an impressed look from beneath her lashes and he smiled down at her as they approached the front doors of the club.

"Just playing the part, Sugar," he said and she laughed, leaning into him playfully.

The club was packed for a Tuesday night, mostly with college kids trying to get in one last hurrah before the fall semester started. _Never a wasted moment_, Stephanie thought as she scanned the crowd on their way to the coat check.

Diesel accepted her ticket, slipping into his hip pocket before guiding her to the bar with a warm hand on the small of her back.

They wove up to the bar and Diesel ordered two shots of bourbon, clinking his shot glass against hers before they both knocked them back. Stephanie wiped a finger below her lower lip, catching a little drip of the burning liquid and sucking it off without thinking, but Diesel's eyes narrowed in on the gesture with fiery intensity.

"Let's dance, Honey," he growled and grabbed her hand, pulling her to the center of the crowded dance floor.

A throbbing rhythm that encouraged lower-body contact was pulsing through the air and rocking the floor. Diesel pulled her flush against his rock hard body with a hand on her waist and she slid against him seductively, enjoying the play of his muscles beneath the silk of his shirt and the heat of his hand on her skin.

He slid a thigh between her legs and she hitched herself tightly against him, resting her forearms on his shoulders and lightly linking her fingers together behind his neck. He gave her a slow, dirty smile and she leaned up against him, letting her breasts brush his chest.

"No cheating," she reminded him and he chuckled low in her ear, his breath caressing her skin and sending a shiver down her spine.

"I promised," he rasped and began moving against her, the natural grace he exhibited while walking expressing itself in the smooth motion of his body.

Stephanie rolled her rips against him in time with the music, quickly losing herself in the motion and the heat. She could feel that he was hard against her and it wasn't long before they were both breathing heavily.

She spun in his grip so her back was to his front and felt him fit his hips to her backside, one of his hands on her waist, urging her on, the other splayed on her taut stomach and she undulated against him, raising her arm over and back to rest her fingers on the nape of his neck.

Diesel dipped his head and she felt him inhaling her scent, his breath caressing her skin, but he didn't touch her with his mouth and she fought to keep her mind off imagining what it would be like, remembering that he'd accused her of thinking too loudly in the past.

Moving with a tight, controlled motion she dipped low, bending her knees so that she slid down the length of his body and then back up, her hand on his neck trailing down his chest and abdomen.

The set ended with her facing him once more, eyes heavy lidded and lips parted.

Diesel grinned at her and lowered his forehead to hers. "Don't move for a minute," he urged and she raised a brow. He reached between them and she realized he was making his reaction to their dancing a little less obvious. She couldn't help the little gasp of breath that left her when his fingers brushed inadvertently against the front of her shorts.

"You weren't lying," he groaned at the sound.

"About what?" she breathed, gathering herself, leaving their foreheads together.

"That this would be fun. But, Honey, when we get back to your place, don't interrupt me if I'm in the shower for a little while."

Stephanie laughed and kissed his cheek, breathing in his sexy scent. "Ditto."

He pulled back a bit, eyebrows raised. "Shit, Steph. Watch it. A cat couldn't scratch this."

Taking her cue, Stephanie took a step back and nodded once toward the bar. "Thirsty?"

"More like starving, but they don't serve what I want at the bar, so a drink will have to do," he replied, his breathing returning to normal.

"Grab us a table and I'll get some drinks," he said and left her on the edge of the dance floor.

Stephanie wove through milling patrons taking a break while the DJ played something mellow to give the crowd a rest. There was a tall table with two barstools positioned next to it a few feet away and she moved quickly to stake her claim on it before anyone else noticed it was empty.

Diesel showed up a moment later, carrying two large glasses with something that shown black and red in the light and another two shot glasses in his hands. He didn't seem to be having any trouble managing the complicated arrangement and he set them all on the table in front of her before seating himself across from her on the other stool.

"What's this?" Stephanie asked, pulling one of the larger glasses toward herself.

"Black Opal. Careful. Tastes easy but it packs a punch."

Stephanie thought there might be something else at the table that tasted easy and packed a punch, but tried to keep that thinking to herself. Either Diesel had shut down the ESP or he chose to ignore the thought, taking a long swallow from his Black Opal.

Stephanie brought the straw to her lips and took a pull, tasting raspberries and sweet and sour. "Yeow," she said, pulling back. "Anything that goes down that easy must be loaded."

Diesel seemed to think for a second before answering. "Vodka, rum, triple sec, tequila, gin, and raspberry liqueur."

"I'm going to have to lay off after this," she said. "Too much more and I'll either be stripping on the dance floor or tossing my cookies in the parking lot."

"Feel free to strip, but if we could avoid the barfing, that would be great."

She grinned at him and lifted her shot glass, offering it up for him to clink his glass against hers.

"Here's to me, and here's to you, and should we ever disagree, then here's to me and fuck you," he toasted, his eyes crinkled with laughter.

"Ooh, I'll toast to that," Stephanie answered and they knocked the warm liquor back.

They finished their drinks just as the DJ was staring a new set and moved back out onto the dance floor. Fire pooled in her belly as Diesel moved against her seductively, his brown eyes intense in the dark club and his hair hanging against his jaw.

She threaded her fingers through the thick strands, raking it back with her nails and noticed that he clenched his jaw, lips slightly parted, lashes lowering over his smoldering gaze.

"I think I need a break," she whispered and he nodded, taking her hand and leading her back toward the table they'd vacated earlier.

A tingling in the back of her neck alerted her a second before she felt a warm and familiar hand come to rest on her hip, halting her forward motion. She lost her grip on Diesel's fingers and he turned, his gaze sliding from her to Ranger standing at her back.

"May I have this dance?" Ranger asked, his lips near her ear and a smirk kicked up Diesel's mouth as she locked her eyes with his.

"It's okay," she mouthed and he gave them both a little nod before heading up to the bar.

Stephanie pivoted on her toe and pressed herself firmly against Ranger in one smooth movement.

"You want to dance, Ranger?" she questioned, her voice deceptively quiet, her hand covering the one still on her hip and her other hand coming to rest on his shoulder. His jaw tightened and his fingers dug into her skin. "Let's dance."

She moved him back, taking advantage of the liquid courage coursing through her veins and the hormones driving her.

Equal parts lust and anger fueled her. This was her dance and she was going to give him a hint of what he was missing by driving him wild on the dance floor.

Ranger's face was blank but his eyes were black as they scanned her sexily clad form, lingering on her stomach and then her breasts before sliding with an almost physical caress over her lips and to her eyes.

Stephanie walked a slow circle around him, drawing her finger along his shoulders before turning to press her ass against him and rolling her hips. His hands gripped her, fingers splayed wide so that his thumbs and forefingers were against her bare skin.

She undulated and ground herself against him, aware of his immediate reaction to her. She leaned back, feeling his hard chest against her bare skin. His hands slid just under the hem of her shirt, caressing her abs and she twisted against him, stepping out with one foot so one of his thighs was locked between her legs.

Stephanie arched back, holding her arms over her head as she dipped backwards, abdomen muscles contracting to control the bend, the weight of her upper body causing her hips to press so tightly to his that they might as well have been naked.

One of his hands was pressed at the small of her back, balancing her while the other slid to cup her ass, gripping the soft curve through the silk of her pants and she rolled against him on her way upright, cupping the back of his neck, curling her fingers into his shirt.

She let her eyes dip to his mouth and licked her lips suggestively.

Ranger moved on the dance floor the same way he did in bed, graceful and dangerous, his rock hard length pinned between them.

He pulled her up against his chest, sliding his thigh against her. His head dipped down and she felt his lips against her throat.

"Babe," he growled, fingers tightening.

His tongue flicked out to taste her and she shivered, continuing to rub herself against him. She slid her fingers into his hair and his mouth clamped onto her neck, his teeth grazing her, his tongue stroking her.

Ranger dragged his mouth up to her ear, biting the lobe and tugging gently. And then his mouth was on hers, his hands holding her against him as they moved. His kiss was all soft lips and skillful tongue and she shivered again thinking of what he could do to her with that tongue. What he'd done to her with that tongue.

His mouth left hers to blaze a trail of fire down her neck to the hollow between her clavicle bones, tonguing her pulse and she couldn't stop the little moan that passed her lips or the wanting that was burning deep in her core.

"What are you doing with Diesel?" he growled against her jaw, nipping and licking the hollow below her ear.

"What do you care?" she questioned, sliding her mouth over his jaw and then blowing on the wet path she'd left, feeling him shudder against her.

"You'll get hurt," he rasped and rocked her against his erection, his fingers digging into her hips, holding her tight.

She bit her lip, eyes narrowing. "I'm already hurt," she replied and watched as something like pain flashed over his face, warring with desire in his eyes.

"Babe," he breathed and she leaned it, giving him a sharp bite right over his jugular.

"I'm all torn up, Ranger," she rasped, her body mimicking what she wanted to do to him in a bed.

She turned, once more pressing her back to his chest, covering his hands on her hips with her own, gyrating as she tilted her head back onto his shoulder so her mouth was just below his ear.

"You ripped my heart out," she continued and his arms slid around her waist, holding her, his hands splayed over her ribs. "And now this?" She nipped at him. "What is this?"

He groaned, arms tightening, hips rocking.

"You want me, but not us," she growled and slid her tongue along his skin. "I'm no longer dealing in half measures. I only want one thing from you, Ranger."

"What?" he questioned.

"Everything."

She stepped away from him abruptly, feeling the loss of his body against hers in some profound way that she hid behind her mask.

"Stephanie." He stepped toward her, and she moved back, feeling Diesel suddenly behind her, exuding a silent menace at the man before her.

Ranger stilled and there was a darkness that swept his features before they went blank at Diesel's protective stance behind her. The other people on the dance floor were oblivious, but a few nearby were getting a vibe that encouraged them to shuffle away, clearing a little space.

"I love you," she told him and his blank face slipped, giving her a glimpse of something raw and barely restrained. Diesel's arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her against his chest. "It's all or nothing."

Diesel, either reading her mind or just aware of what she would want, took a step back, pulling her with him and then guided her from the dance floor, leaving Ranger staring after them.

A shiver racked her and he pulled her against his side, supporting her.

"M-m-my things," she gritted out between clenched teeth.

"I've got them," he answered and she finally noticed that he had her jacket and her clutch in his other hand. "C'mon, darlin'. I've got you."

They stepped out of the club and the cool night air hit her fevered skin, sharpening her focus and shimmying another shudder down her spine.

Diesel scooped her up with an arm behind her shoulders and another under her knees and she leaned against him, burying her face in his neck, sucking in deep breathes. His heart was steady and comforting against her side, beating evenly in sharp contrast to her own racing pulse.

"You did good," he assured her. "It's okay."

A sob wracked her body and tears slid down her cheeks.

"Shh. Steph, it's okay." They were at her car and Diesel opened the door, not bothering with keys. He buckled her into the passenger seat and covered her with her jacket, tucking it around her shoulders.

She curled into the seat, suppressing sobs, hating that she was so weak when it came to dealing with Ranger, hoping she hadn't shown her hand too soon.

Diesel was in the car beside her, starting the ignition without the keys. He shifted and pulled out of the lot, slipping from one gear to the next and racing them toward her apartment, somehow only hitting green lights and avoiding any other traffic.

They made it to her place in record time and Diesel was around to her side, lifting her out of her seat, pushing the door closed with his foot. He took her up the stairs and before she knew it she was in his lap on the couch, holding on to him.

"Don't be so scared," he said, his arms tight around her, his mouth against her hair. "Ranger is good at keeping his thoughts hidden, but he was thinking about what you said. You told him all or nothing and his first thought was 'all'."

Diesel pulled the clip out of her hair and threaded his fingers through her sweat dampened curls.

Stephanie felt some of the fear drain out of her. "Really?" she managed, her voice tight.

"He wants it too, doll. He's going to come around and my bet would be soon."

Diesel continued to hold her, his hands soothing the tension out of her, his heartbeat steady beneath her cheek.

"Sleep, honey. Things will be better in the morning."

Stephanie let out a shuddering sigh and curled her fingers into the hair at the nape of Diesel's neck.

"Thank you," she whispered and his arms tightened fractionally. "You're a good friend."

He kissed the top of her head and settled himself into the couch as she felt herself drifting off.

As blessed unconsciousness claimed her, she heard him rumble against her hair, "You're a good woman."

#

**YO:** Long chapter! 8,300+ words for this round. Once more, it's just about four in the morning. This is becoming a habit.

What did you think? I meant for this chapter to have more Ranger/Steph interaction, but I hope the little bits and then the end helped. I'm not sure what's going to happen next, but I feel like a lot got accomplished here, so we'll see what the next chapter brings.

Another little mini-steamy scene with Lester, because I can't get him out of my mind. Plum Inc. made a short appearance and Ellen, who always has _my_ eye twitching didn't fare so well, but at least Steph got to tell her off without losing her cool.

Diesel takes everything in stride and I had a hot flash just thinking about him "taking care of business" in the shower. Yeow, just writing that caused a mini-one.

Chapter Eight should be up soon. I can't wait to hear what you all think of this one ;)


	8. Chapter 8

**UPDATE:** If you read chapter six and it was missing all the apostrophes and quotation marks, sorry about that. I have no idea what caused that to happen, but I've got it fixed now. I assure you, I wrote chapter six with all the necessary punctuation in place.

**NOTE:** You know the drill, but I'm going to say thank you anyways. Feedback is coming in so frequently I'm in constant inbox checking mode, unwrapping each comment like a piece of candy. Mmmm. I so appreciate you all reading and reviewing this. It's like a big, warm hug and, simultaneously, a slap on the back and a hearty, "Good job," which I love.

This chapter is just short of 6,000 words, and I thought I'd add in another scene, but I thought it would just start to really stretch on if I moved into the next phase, so for pacing, I'll be saving that for the next bit. Next chapter is likely to be partly Ranger POV and partly Steph POV, and should be fun and emotionally and sexually charged.

Can't wait to hear your thoughts on this chapter!

**SPOILERS:** Do you feel spoilered? I hope so!

**RATING:** Language, pelvic grinding, doughnuts, and mind-reading. Grown-ups only.

**CHAPTER EIGHT:**

Ranger parked the black Porsche Turbo 911 and slid out from behind the wheel, activating the locks and security system with a click from his key fob.

As he approached the darkened glass doors, he could hear the throb of bass pulsing from inside just as before. The parking lot was surprisingly packed and there were plenty of people going in, but not many coming out. It was a little before midnight and the crowd was just getting warmed up.

Stepping through the doors, Ranger was immediately wrapped in the warmth of bodies pressing and grinding together, strong drinks, and the sound of body-rocking music. The lights were low, accented with blacklight, strobes, and laser displays that beamed colored light patters on a variety of surfaces.

Ignoring blatantly inviting looks from a number of co-ed aged girls, Ranger made his way to the bar, scanning for Stephanie. He made his way around the edges of the dance floor and spotted her near the center.

It was hard to get a firm grasp of what she was wearing, but he was aware that the only thing marring the smooth expanse of her neck and back to the almost indecently low waistband of her black shorts was a thin strand of translucent strapping that held the edges of her halter against her ribs and another keeping it anchored around her neck. A neck that was pale and bared by her thick curls piled in a messy twist on the back of her head.

He went stock still, gripping the rail before him that separated the drop to the dance floor from the raised bar section. She was plastered against Diesel from the waist down, his thigh wedged tight between her slim legs, her left hand cupping the back of his neck under his shaggy hair and her other hand resting on his forearm. He had one hand splayed over her ribs, his fingers just below her breast and the other was gripping the curve of her hip. Her skin glistened with a sheen of sweat as she undulated against the other man, but from where he stood he couldn't see her face.

Ranger could, however, see Diesel's face and it had him clutching the rail with a white-knuckled grip. Diesel's expression was intense, his eyes hooded, lips parted. Even from that distance, Ranger could see that his jaw was clenched.

Ranger continued to watch them and only took small comfort that not once did he see Diesel's lips come in contact with any part of Stephanie's skin or vice versa.

The current song wound down, already moving into another and he watched Stephanie rake her fingers through Diesel's hair, lingering at his nape, the strands still twisted in her grip. She must have said something because Diesel nodded slightly.

Moving swiftly, Ranger descended to the dance floor, weaving towards Stephanie, barely brushing anyone as he passed skillfully through the crowd. He came from behind them as they were leaving the floor, her hand clasped in Diesel's.

Acting on instinct, Ranger reached for her, his hand coming to rest on her hip and stalling her forward motion. Diesel kept moving, losing his grip on Stephanie's hand and immediately turning, eyes dark and his stance potentially dangerous as his gaze moved over Stephanie and landed on him standing behind her.

Ranger shifted close to her back, getting in her space. "May I have this dance?" he asked, his mouth near her ear and his eyes still fixed on Diesel's.

Diesel's focus shifted to Stephanie and his mouth crooked in a smirk as Stephanie mouthed something Ranger didn't quite catch but that drew a nod from Diesel before he turned away, heading up to the bar.

Ranger clenched his jaw as Stephanie spun tightly, her smooth motion not even dislodging his hand from her hip but instead sliding her ass beneath it so it then rested on her opposite hip. Then she was against him, her blue eyes compelling, accented in shimmering shades of smoke.

Her hand pressed his into her hip and she tipped her chin up, staring at him from beneath thick, black lashes. Her breasts were against his chest and he tightened his grip on her slightly, feeling the heat of her seeping into him as she lifted her free hand to rest on his shoulder, her touch affecting him like a burn.

"You want to dance, Ranger?" she questioned, her voice controlled. He clenched his jaw and flexed his fingers, unable to pull his eyes from hers. "Let's dance."

She stepped forward and her will was like a guiding force, urging him to back up while she kept her body tight against his, compelling him deeper into the press of gyrating couples. Her eyes were flashing and he didn't know if it was desire or anger that fueled their spark, and he was finding it hard to care.

Stephanie shifted and he scanned her body, taking in the slinky silk shorts and the white silk halter top that was clinging to her breasts, draping their soft curves like a caress that he wanted to imitate. Her stomach was as bare as her back, inviting him to devour her with his gaze and follow it with his mouth.

Her slow walk around him, her finger trailing a line of fire across his shoulders, had him tense and he could feel the tempo of the music throbbing in time with the blood in his veins.

Suddenly her ass was pressed into the hollow of his hips, finding him hard and heavy. She molded herself to him, her body picking up the beat like she was a part of it and it a part of her.

She teased him, playing him like an instrument as she worked him with her sexy form, the motions as primal as the hunt and all he could do was move with her, achingly hard as she pulsed and gyrated against him, her movements so perfectly designed to arouse him that he felt his breathing become labored as he worked to control the urge to tear away her shorts and thrust himself inside of her, to see if she was still as hot and tight as he remembered.

He was gripping her ass, her hand was fisted in his hair, her breathing was a controlled rasp that made her breasts lift and fall in little, mouthwatering heaves. Ranger felt her fingers curl into his shirt, holding him firmly as her eyes dipped to his mouth and she licked her lips suggestively. He rocked himself against the apex of her thighs, reveling in the heat he found there.

The smooth, slick column of her throat begged for his mouth and he brushed it against her skin, his eyes closing at the contact, her pulse thundering beneath his lips. He gripped her hard, acutely aware that any tighter might bruise her pale flesh. "Babe," he growled, his name for her a benediction, a prayer. He had to taste her and he ran his tongue over her throat, licking the salt from her skin, absorbing the shiver that passed through her.

Stephanie's motion hadn't stopped, and her undulating hips were driving him wild. When she clenched another handful of his hair, holding his head to her, he clamped his mouth on her throat, licking and sucking, dragging his teeth and his lips over her, up her neck to her ear, tugging at the lobe gently before sliding his mouth to hers, feeling another tremor course through her as their lips collided.

Earthquakes and volcanic eruptions had nothing on the power of her kiss as she parted her lips beneath his, her tongue dancing out to slide against his in time with the rhythm of her hips. Her hands in his hair were pulling tight enough to sting and the contrasting sensations of pleasure and pain had him throbbing painfully, his cock straining against the zipper of his jeans.

Ranger dragged his mouth to the hollow at the base of her throat, tonguing her pulse, feeling it race for him and she moaned quietly, a little gasp of pleasure, her muscles tightening under his hands.

He had to know. He'd seen them together, moving against each other just one step from fucking, right here on this dance floor. "What are you doing with Diesel?" he growled, keeping his mouth against her jaw, nipping and licking at the hollow beneath her ear.

Her lips slid over his jaw, her breath hot, tinged with the whiskey he'd tasted on her tongue, and she blew on the wet path she'd left on his skin.

"What do you care?"

His heart tripped, and he didn't want to think about how she had no reason to assume he really did. "You'll get hurt," he said, shoving guilty thoughts away, rocking against her. Dios, he was going to have the imprint of his zipper on his cock for a week.

She leaned back, her narrowed eyes gripping his as she drew her lower lip between her teeth. "I'm already hurt," she told him, and he heard it in her voice, striking him like a whip.

"Babe," he breathed, cut short when she dipped in, nipping at his jugular with a little, stinging bite.

She wasn't done, though, and her body moved in stark contrast to her words as she continued to work him like a stripper pole. "I'm all torn up, Ranger." Her voice was like smoke and fire, rough and silky at the same time.

Stephanie turned in his arms, once again rubbing her ass against his erection, her hands covering his as she let her head drop back on his shoulder, the molten skin of her bare back pressed against his chest, her breath steamy against his ear. "You ripped my heart out."

Ranger wrapped his arms around her so tightly they crossed her belly, his hands splayed over her ribs, feeling her words like bullets.

"And now this?" She bit him again. "What is this?"

He groaned in her hair, her words breaking him, her body tempting him, driving him, unable to stop rocking into her.

"You want me, but not us." Her tongue touched his skin, burning like a brand. "I'm no longer dealing in half measures. I only want one thing from you, Ranger."

He was desperate, something coiling painfully in his chest. "What?" he groaned, the pleasure and the pain placing him on the precipice. If she were to touch him in that moment he probably would have embarrassed himself like a randy teenager.

"Everything."

Abruptly, she pulled away from him, turning in one of those beautifully graceful moves that took his breath away and while her face was strangely neutral there was a pain evident in the tension around her eyes, a tiny tremble in her lip. She masked it so well, but her eyes were hollow and empty and a cold stiletto pierced his heart.

He took a step toward her. "Stephanie," he whispered, barely restraining the word from becoming a plea.

She moved away another step and Diesel was at her back as if summoned from thin air, the blond man radiating protective menace in waves.

Ranger cracked the blank mask into place over his immediate reaction to lash out at the interruption, to claim Stephanie beyond a doubt, to drive Diesel from their presence and from her life. Stephanie would never forgive him if he acted on the violent urge, so he wiped all expression from his face, forcing a calm he didn't feel.

Some of the couples near them were moving away, aware of the tension flickering around them like heat lightening.

Her eyes held his, full of pain. "I love you," she said, her voice full of that same emotion.

He felt his mask slip as her words struck home, but the tone was all wrong. It should have been joy in her voice but it was a deep and terrible hurt.

Diesel's arm came around her waist, pulling her against his chest, lending her the support Ranger knew he should have been giving her for so long.

"It's all or nothing."

_All_, he wanted to tell her, to crush her against his body and take her mouth and her heart and make every piece of her his. But he stood frozen as Diesel moved her back a step and then quickly turned her, leading her off the dance floor with his arm tight around her waist.

They disappeared into the crowd and when he felt he could breathe again, he went after her, shoving people out of his way, ignoring their angered cries. He pressed to the exit, his heart thundering. He threw open the doors and leapt out into the parking long just in time to see the taillights of Stephanie's little black Miata vanish into the humid night.

Ranger's face was blank, his heart was throbbing and, if he'd known how, he would have cried.

#

Ranger completed the drive to Haywood but couldn't hardly remember it. He rested his forehead against the steering wheel, aware that he was slipping. He couldn't remember the last time he'd driven in a haze and was lucky tonight wasn't the night for someone's vendetta. He would have been unprepared and easy pickings for any two-bit criminal with a grudge.

_ 'I love you.'_

Her voice echoed again and again, rebounding in his skull, closing his throat. He sucked in a ragged breath.

He didn't do relationships. No matter that Stephanie had somehow slipped through his armor and become his safe haven. When he needed to disappear and the delicate balance he maintained with the rest of the public shifted against him, Stephanie never turned him away.

He could show up in her apartment without warning or consent, tell her he needed her help, and no matter the odds or the dangers to herself, no matter that helping him could end up with her in prison or dead if the dice came up wrong, she accepted it. Embraced it even, throwing herself into whatever task he needed her to complete.

_'I love you,'_ her words a gift, her tone implying that it was a death sentence. For her. He was killing her.

She had her friends, and she'd been pressing herself on, adopting precaution and training measures into her life, and he'd seen over the last six months that she gained satisfaction and pleasure from her other relationships and from her work, but the fire in her was banked. The heart she put into all she did was broken and he'd done that to her.

Could he fix this? Was it possible to repair the damage he'd done and build something with her? Madre de Dios, could he drop the mask and pretenses, let go of all his reasons, and let her in the rest of the way?

He'd been telling himself it was too dangerous. That a relationship with her that involved commitment of the romantic variety would place her in peril, make her a target, but it was habit more than truth.

He was in the business of kicking ass, and business was good. Hunting FTA's kept him on his toes, and sometimes he dealt with dangerous characters that would love to come back and haunt him, damage him, hurt him and those close to him. Some that would love to bring RangeMan down and see it burn, but they were thorough with those ones, making sure they got put away or disappeared forever. He hadn't had a case come back and bite him in the ass in ages.

Rarely did he have to be present on security gigs, just taking the ones that seemed like they might be fun. He still got a kick out of throwing crack heads out of windows or watching one of the other guys do it. Of course, that work was serious, too, but really, it didn't pay well enough in the grand scheme of things for him to need the work. It just helped to let off some steam now and then.

Ranger still liked to walk the parameter of properties under RangeMan protection, stay hands-on in the operations, but his men were highly skilled and knew how he expected clients and their assets to be handled. Those jobs rarely ended with anyone having a personal vendetta against RangeMan for the services they provided, and him and his men spent most of the time anonymous to any threatening persons involved.

His reasons for pushing Stephanie away were full of holes and he knew it. He was hiding behind them, less worried that she would get hurt or killed and more worried that letting her in would make him vulnerable. To her. He was forced to admit to himself that he already was.

_'I love you.'_ She didn't say those words lightly. She'd said them to him once before, but she'd added one of the same qualifiers he'd tossed at her glibly in the past. _'I love you, in my own way.'_

He'd thought that was what he wanted. To control the limits of their friendship, to see the hero she thought he was in her eyes, yet downplay his role in her life, and vice versa, by calling her "Entertainment". Handing her scraps of information about his life, his work, his past. Taking advantage of her physical reaction to him, bathing in her little sighs and the way she could melt against him from a touch.

It wasn't enough. Her fingers were wrapped around his heart and he wanted her to _know_ him. He wanted to feel the comfort she offered, that he'd occasionally gotten a glimpse of when he'd needed her help instead of her needing his. He wanted to feel it every day. To let the past and the darkness be wiped away with her love and to allow himself to really feel again.

_He loved her._

Ranger thought the realization should hit him like a ton of bricks dropped from fifty stories, but instead it was like that same ton of bricks was being lifted off him, freeing him. A black hole he hadn't known was sucking at his heart suddenly shrank. It didn't fade away completely, and he knew it was because he didn't know if he could earn her back.

_He had to try._

#

Stephanie's cubicle was empty when Ranger came downstairs at eight Wednesday morning. There was a stack of search requests in her inbox but the computer was powered down, the desk lamp still off.

"She's not here."

Ranger turned to Santos. The man was all blank expression and emotionless voice, but his eyes were hard.

"I need to talk to her," Ranger said.

"She called in this morning and said she'd be running skips for Vinnie today. I didn't talk to her, so you'll have to ask Tank about it."

"She called Tank?" _Of course she called Tank,_ he thought, mentally pounding his head on the wall. _Why the hell would she want to talk to me if she could avoid it?_

Santos raised a brow and tipped his head in the direction of Tank's office before walking off.

Tank was sitting at his desk, yawning at his computer screen, a Styrofoam coffee cup steaming at his elbow. He glanced up as Ranger walked in after a curt knock. "Yo."

"Stephanie's not at her desk."

Tank's brows drew together, but whether in confusion or something else, Ranger couldn't tell. The silence stretched between them as Tank waited for a question.

"Santos said she's running skips today?" Ranger prodded.

Tank nodded and leaned back in his seat, picking up his cup for a swallow.

"Any I should know about?" Ranger asked as Tank continued the silent treatment. It was annoying him, although they'd been communicating wordlessly for years. Stephanie called it the RangeMan ESP. _Fuck, she's all over in my head,_ he admonished himself.

"She doesn't take jobs she can't handle," Tank replied, finally communicating verbally.

"Do you know the files?"

"I don't see the necessity. Bomber takes care of herself." _Without you,_ hung in the air as clear as if Tank had actually said it aloud.

Ranger raked a hand through his hair and stood with his hands on his hips, carefully keeping his blank face from turning into a glare.

"Any particular reason she called you to say she wasn't coming to work today instead of me?" Ranger bit out.

"That's fairly obvious, Ranger," Tank returned, his voice bland.

He was trying to pick a fight and he didn't even know why. Taking a deep breath, Ranger left Tank's office without another word. He took the elevator to the garage and jumped into the Cayenne, turning it toward the bonds office when he hit the street.

Ten minutes later he cruised past Vincent Plum Bail Bonds, scanning for Stephanie's Miata or her RangeMan SUV, but even the windows of the office were dark and Ranger cursed himself for an idiot. He knew Connie didn't even open up shop until nine and it was still only fifteen past eight.

Pulling into a slot in front of the office, Ranger flipped open his phone and dialed the control room.

"Yo," Junior answered.

"Get me the location of Stephanie's car," Ranger ordered.

There was hesitation on the line for a moment. "Is Bomber in trouble?" Junior asked finally.

"Just get me her location."

"Have you tried calling her?"

_What was this, the fucking Spanish Inquisition?_ Ranger bit off something vulgar and shut the phone with a snap, barely containing his urge to crush the phone like a pop can.

Why didn't he just call her? He stared at the phone in his hand, contemplating. She'd probably hang up on him, that's why. Or not even answer.

No, he conceded, she'd answer, thinking it had to do with work, but when something lame came out of his mouth, like 'Hey, about last night...' he'd be able to _hear_ her expression going blank like a gate slamming shut and then she'd disconnect. This was something he'd have to do in person.

Backing out into traffic, Ranger took a direct route to the Tasty Pastry and picked up half a dozen Boston Crème doughnuts and, with a mental growl, three coffees. She'd probably make him say whatever it was he was going to say in front of Diesel. That thought made his guts clench painfully. He thought about getting himself one of the few healthy choices on the Tasty Pastry menu, but his guts weren't done mulling over a potential Diesel-audience so he decided against it.

The drive to Stephanie's apartment went faster than he liked. He could have used another twenty minutes to come up with something to say, but her personal car and the RangeMan issue Bronco were both in the lot, clear indicators that Stephanie was home, and the coffee was getting cold. Shit or get off the pot.

Ranger took the stairs to Stephanie's apartment, balancing the coffee caddy in one arm and gripping the pastry bag with the same hand to keep one arm free. He reached for the lock picking tool he kept in his pocket automatically when he stood in front of her door but released it after a moment's thought.

What were they doing in there? Still sleeping? Did Diesel sleep on the couch, or was he yet another man that refused to be confined to the too-short sofa? Maybe they were all tangled up in her bed, Diesel's face in her hair.

Ranger's hackles rose and he had to suppress a growl. Going for option number two, he knocked.

He heard a tiny creak on the other side of the door that indicated someone was looking through the peephole at him and he kept his face expressionless as he stared into it.

He heard the chain coming undone and then the door swung open, revealing Diesel wearing nothing but a pair of faded jeans slung low on his hips to reveal the waistband of pink boxers speckled with red lips. His feet were bare, his jaw was rough, and his hair was wild, immediately bringing to Ranger's mind a vivid image of Stephanie raking her fingers through it at the club the night before.

His stomach dropped into his boots somewhere and felt like it was down for the count.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Diesel asked, his eyes taking in the coffee and pastry bag.

_Mental breathing exercises. Level head. If you punch him in the face not only will Stephanie be angry, but you'll probably spill the coffee._

"Where's Stephanie?" Ranger asked, ignoring Diesel's general hostility.

"Not here." Diesel now had his muscled arms crossed over his broad chest. He was a little leaner than Ranger and a little taller. He also had a reputation of being very, very dangerous.

Ranger wasn't entirely sure what it was Diesel could do, but the supernatural had been more than hinted a few times, and he wasn't in the mood to tangle with the mysterious. He had no doubt he could hold his own with Diesel in a brawl, but Diesel's status as a dangerous entity had yet to be quantified to anyone's satisfaction as far as Ranger knew.

He was beginning to feel like an idiot standing in the hallway, facing off against a barely clothed Diesel with coffee and doughnuts in his hands. Everything to do with Stephanie had to be difficult.

Going with what he hoped was a non-threatening expression by Diesel's standards, he raised a brow.

"I brought coffee." Peace offering.

Diesel studied him through narrowed eyes for a moment and then stepped back into the foyer, holding the door open wide enough for Ranger to pass him into the apartment.

Habit had Ranger categorizing Stephanie's apartment as soon as he entered. Rex tended to be nocturnal, so there was no sound of him running in his wheel at that hour. No smell of coffee, so wherever Stephanie was she hadn't brewed a pot before she left. Diesel's boots were next to Stephanie's CATS under the coffee table and there was a beer, still covered in condensation from the fridge, sitting on top of it next to a few packages of TastyKakes.

_How cute,_ Ranger thought grimly. _They enjoy the same crap food._

Diesel walked into Stephanie's bedroom and came out wearing a gray t-shirt, causing Ranger to do some more mental deep breathing. The fucker had his _clothes_ in Stephanie's room, and obviously the couch hadn't been turned into a very uncomfortable bed, so it was good guess that Diesel was bedding down with her at night.

"If you're done thinking all that bullshit, you can set your peace offering down and wait for Steph on the couch or hanging from the ceiling, whatever you'd prefer," Diesel offered.

The comment Stephanie had made to him once about Diesel reading minds popped into his head and he clamped down on his thoughts, locking them up tight.

Diesel's knowing smirk was disconcerting and Ranger walked into the kitchen, placing the pastry bag and coffee caddy on the counter.

Yeah, this wasn't awkward. _Hang from the ceiling? What the fuck did that mean?_

He heard Diesel approaching and pulled one of the cups out of the caddy, leaning back against the counter so he could keep an eye on the other man.

"Hey, Bats, one of those coffees for me?" Diesel asked and Ranger made the connection.

Batman. Hang from the ceiling. Ha ha. Diesel was a real comedian.

Ranger nodded toward the caddy in lieu of an answer and Diesel took one of the coffees, popping off the lid and dumping some Bailey's from the cupboard over the fridge into the cup before snapping the lid back on and taking a long swallow.

The silence stretched between the two men as they leaned against opposite counters, drinking their coffee, studying each other like two alpha lions in a cage.

Diesel's attention shifted to the doughnut bag and Ranger tensed.

"She'll share them with me, anyway," Diesel said, an undertone of amusement in his voice.

Ranger didn't know if the other man was reading his mind or his body language, but the moment passed and Diesel didn't make a grab at the pastries.

Another ten minutes dragged by and Diesel straightened slightly. Two minutes later the apartment door opened and closed before Stephanie stepped into view.

She was dressed in blue Nike sports bra and matching shorts, running shoes on her feet. Her hair was scraped back into a ponytail and her face was scrubbed clean. Her skin was slick with a fine sheen of sweat and a Glock 36 and her cell phone were clipped to the strap of a mini-pack slung around her waist.

Her eyes went to Ranger first, her expression blank. She'd probably seen his car in the parking lot and he wondered if any emotion had crossed her face at that point.

"What's going on?" she asked, her gaze sliding from Ranger to Diesel.

"Ranger's feeling diplomatic. He brought us breakfast," Diesel answered and gestured toward the bag and coffee on the counter.

Stephanie stepped carefully into the kitchen, pulling first her phone and then her gun off her waist. She put the phone down, but Ranger noticed she held on to the gun for a moment longer, probably contemplating the odds that she might need it in the immediate future.

Doubt must have won, because she placed the gun next to the phone and unclipped her pack, dropping it on the breakfast counter behind the sink.

Ranger remained unmoving as Stephanie removed the third cup from the caddy and added in creamer from the fridge. He noticed it was a non-fat variety and refrained from commenting. She peeked in the bag and he caught a small smile touching her lips before she reached inside and removed one of the doughnuts.

She placed it on the counter and when she offered the bag to Diesel, Ranger tightened his jaw at the smug look the other man flashed him as he accepted the proffered pastry.

The three of them stood in the kitchen, each deep in their coffee cups. The small space was crowded, and any stranger looking in would have found their positions strange; each of them staking out a counter, ankles crossed as they leaned back against an edge, eyeing each other like barely restrained animals.

Stephanie was the bravest and finally broke the silence. "Didn't Tank tell you I was working for Vinnie today?" she asked Ranger. She took a bite of her doughnut and he waited for a little moan, or her eyes to roll around, or any number of the normal reactions he was used to when Stephanie ate one of her favorite types of junk food.

Her face remained blank as she waited on his answer and he let out a small breath that was his version of a sigh. She arched a brow at him and he decided to plow forward.

"I was wondering why you didn't tell me," he answered.

"It didn't seem like something worth bothering you over. The guys almost always call in to Tank when they're not coming to work."

She had a point. Why couldn't he get to his? Because he was distracted by her slightly glistening skin, reminding him of how she'd looked dry humping him on the dance floor and how she'd tasted on his tongue. And her smell, faintly floral and cut with clean, sweaty woman fresh from a workout. Or maybe a romp in bed.

He had to fight to keep from swallowing visibly and hoped his baser reaction wasn't suddenly obvious. _Down boy_, he thought, and Diesel snorted, coughing into the crook of his elbow.

_What was his deal?_ Ranger thought.

"No deal," Diesel said aloud and pushed away from the counter. "I'm going to go watch some TV while you two finish up."

_What the fuck?_

Ranger thought he heard Diesel mutter, "You're the fuck," between coughs as he left the kitchen.

When he turned his attention back to Stephanie she had a brow raised at him expectantly.

"What are you doing here, Ranger?" she asked him, her voice guarded.

He softened, taking a step toward her but she shifted farther away, taking Diesel's spot against the opposite counter, holding her coffee and doughnut like a shield between them.

"I was worried about you, Babe," he chose, staying close to the truth. He was worried about her, but he was also just trying to figure out a way to ask her for another chance without making an ass of himself.

Her eyes narrowed, at his answer as a whole or just at the 'Babe' part, he didn't know.

"They're not difficult skips," she said, and when he opened his mouth to counter that he didn't mean the skips she held up a hand, effectively stopping him. "Don't."

So she'd been purposely misinterpreting his words. Fine. "Lula running back-up for you?" he finally asked, playing along for lack of a better option. _Or balls_. He grimaced inwardly.

"Diesel's going to be my back-up today."

He froze. "If you need someone more qualified than Lula I could send one of the guys."

"That's not it. Lula's got a spa appointment she doesn't want to miss, and there's six new FTA's that have come in since Monday. I just want to get an early start and get as many of these out of the way as I can. Diesel's here, so I'm using him."

That last part hung in the air between them and Stephanie's expression, not blank for once, said he could interpret that however the hell he wanted.

Diesel chose that moment to reappear. He looked between them, his lips tilted slightly at the corners, his eyes crinkled with amusement. "Can I get another doughnut?" he asked Stephanie, sauntering over to the bag by her elbow.

Stephanie pushed away from the counter and took the last bite of her own doughnut. She locked her eyes with Ranger's and deliberately licked the frosting off her forefinger. His pants were suddenly too tight again.

"You can have the rest," she answered Diesel, her eyes not shifting an inch. "I've got to take a shower." Still holding her coffee, she picked up her gun and left the kitchen.

Ranger stared after her even after he heard the bathroom door close and the shower turn on before turning back to Diesel.

The man was once again leaning against the counter, grinning wide enough to reveal dimples Ranger had no idea existed but that made him feel murderous.

"Well, Bats, that went well," he commented just before sinking his white teeth into a Boston Crème.

#

**YO:** It begins! Stephanie and Ranger, doing the emotional tango, and Diesel reading Ranger's mind at the worst possible moments... for Ranger, anyway. I was going for some humor with this chapter, and Diesel was feeling particularly funny so he played along. I hope you think so, but Diesel doesn't care as long as he gets his doughnuts and a chance to get Ranger's panties in a twist.

Little re-cap of the club scene, but it was just too good not to get Ranger's take, especially considering Stephanie dropped the L-Bomb after giving him an epic hard-on. I'd like to see if he's still got the zipper inprint...

I hope you enjoyed this chapter. We're getting real close to some actual smut, but I don't think two chapters is going to wrap this up and I've got a real slap in the face planned for Ranger. No worries, though. He'll recover and it'll be good for him and their relationship as a whole... Maybe (with any luck) it won't be any good for _your_ panties.

Can't wait to read your feedback! LOOOOOVE it!


	9. Chapter 9

**NOTE:** Your continued support is so amazing. If I haven't gotten a reply to you, please know that you are appreciated and I really love every single thing each of you has written to me.

Chapter Nine was the hardest chapter to write so far. I was really struggling with what to do with this. I had a few scenes running through my head but couldn't get them to fit up right. A little beating of the plot bunnies, a couple beers, and some beautifully offensive music later, I pumped this out. I hope it's up to par, everyone.

I manage an online handmade business and just got hit with a few orders, so I don't know when I'll have Chapter Ten done, but I'm going to try and have it finished before the weekend is over.

Thanks again. You rock, Babes (and Cupcakes, if you're reading ;).

PS - This might be packed with typos. I'm running off four hours of sleep in the past forty-eight and I only read through the completed chapter once. I won't get it posted tonight or maybe even tomorrow if I try and read through it again.

**SPOILERS:** Diesel is in this, so I'm just going to say up to _Plum Spooky_. If you haven't read any of the Between-The-Numbers books, get on it ;)

**RATING:** Adults acting adultish. Kiddies, what the fuck are you doing here?

**CHAPTER NINE:**

Stephanie shut the bathroom door and leaned back against it, her head thumping lightly on the wood.

Ranger. In her apartment. With doughnuts and coffee. She took a deep breath, placed her Glock and coffee cup on the counter by the sink, and turned on the shower faucet, her thoughts spinning.

What did this mean? Had he come to make peace? Shoot her down again? Confess his undying love? She snorted. _Unlikely. _And what was Diesel talking about? Usually when he started firing off when no one had spoken it was because he'd been reading her mind. Had he been reading Ranger's mind? She was going to have to ask him.

It was tempting to lather up with her Bulgari Green, but she was unsure if Ranger would still be doing the caged animal act somewhere in her apartment when she came out of the shower. She didn't want to smell like him if he was, although it didn't bother her if Diesel noticed. He'd make some smart ass remark and she'd fire one right back. Business as usual.

Stephanie had woken up at seven-thirty and rolled out from under Diesel to go for a jog. Usually she would do her run on a treadmill at RangeMan, but there'd been a message on her voicemail from Connie saying they had three more skips and it had seemed like the perfect excuse to avoid Ranger for a day. Six skips in three days was as good a bone as she was going to get thrown, and after her and Ranger's little interlude on the dance floor, she really needed a bone.

A long, hard, Cuban bone.

The phone call from RangeMan while she was on her return lap had almost caused her to trip and kiss the pavement. She'd already called Tank to let him know she wasn't coming in, and the only thing she could think of was that Ranger was calling her for some reason.

It hadn't been Ranger, though, it had been Junior, and he was warning her that Ranger was heading to her apartment and that he'd stopped at the Tasty Pastry first. This news put a real damper on her immediate relief.

Facing Ranger was high on her list of things-_not_-to-do, but maybe he'd be skulking in the parking lot and she could avoid him altogether.

Jogging around to the back of the building she'd spotted his Cayenne and her heart had started racing when she saw it was empty. Great. He was in her apartment. With Diesel.

That thought had her pounding up the stairs to unlock her door and make sure the apartment wasn't littered with blood and body parts. She'd wanted to make Ranger think about the possibility of her being with someone else, not incite a homicide or two.

Eerie silence had greeted her when she'd stepped inside and finding the two of them eyeballing each other like two alpha dogs fighting over territory had been enough to make her consider drawing her gun. Or maybe throwing a bucket of water on them.

Done with her scrubbing and conditioning, Stephanie turned off the shower and wrapped herself in a nice, fluffy towel. She used a smaller towel to rub the excess water from her hair and did the hair and makeup think, almost taking her eye out with the mascara wand when there was a loud rap on the door.

"He's gone," Diesel's voice sounded and Stephanie relaxed, blinking mascara out of her eye.

"Thanks," she called back and heard him move away from the door. _That's a relief_, she thought and cursed the part of herself that was hurt that he'd left before she'd come out.

With all the necessities taken care of from the neck up, Stephanie ducked into her bedroom and dressed quickly in boot cut jeans and a black tank. She locked her Glock in the safe bolted to the floor of her closet and retrieved her Sig from the bedside table where she'd left it before heading for the living room. Her utility belt was on the floor next to the couch and she strapped it around her waist, securing her holster to her hip and her little Kershaw utility knife in her side pocket.

She didn't bother carrying a fancy knife like Ranger, figuring she didn't really know how to use it well enough to keep it from being turned back on her in a fight, but the pocket knife was handy and _could_ be used as a weapon in a pinch.

Once she had her boots laced up she secured the rest of her equipment to her belt and waited for Diesel to get out of the shower where he'd retreated while she dressed.

He came out of the bathroom wearing the same jeans and t-shirt he'd been wearing when she'd gotten home from work the previous day, his hair damp from the shower and his jaw still shadowed with stubble. Vacation Diesel wasn't clean shaven, apparently.

Diesel dropped down next to her on the couch to lace up his own boots and she leaned close, giving him a sniff. "You used my Bulgari?"

He lifted a brow at her. "It's man soap." Then his lips curled. "The same soap Ranger uses, if I'm not mistaken. Why would you have some of that?"

"It's unisex," Stephanie argued and busied herself making sure she had everything she needed hooked to her belt once more.

"Right," he said, dragging the word out. "Anyway, I was thinking if we just happen to 'run into him' again, maybe me smelling like his soap will set him off some more."

Stephanie headed into the kitchen, trailed closely by Diesel, following her nose to a different smell: coffee. Diesel must have set the pot brewing while she was in the shower, because the carafe was now full. The cup Ranger had brought her was long gone and half a pot of coffee was sounding pretty good.

Once they both had a mug fixed, Stephanie fixed her gaze on the Unmentionable and quirked a brow at him. "Were you reading his mind earlier?" she asked, following up on her hunch.

"Maybe," Diesel replied, perfectly capable of two-syllable answers just like some other man she knew.

"What was he thinking?" she prodded, deeply curious. "If it was about me, I want to know. It might help with the plan."

Diesel studied her for a minute then shrugged. "He was thinking you looked hot and it was giving him a hard on," he stated matter-of-factly and Stephanie felt her cheeks turn red.

"Really?" she squeaked, and then coughed to cover her embarrassment.

"You did look hot. The part that made me laugh was when he thought to himself, 'Down boy.' I almost snorted coffee out my nose."

Stephanie almost did the same thing at his elaboration. "You're kidding!" she finally managed, wiping her mouth with a paper towel.

Diesel held up the three fingers of his right hand. "Scouts honor. Man's got it bad."

"He think anything else interesting?"

"No, not really," he answered evasively and she narrowed her eyes. "Okay, before you got back he had some pretty dirty thoughts about you and me and you with someone named Santos. He wasn't enjoying them."

Stephanie felt herself coloring again. She'd relaxed her guard around Diesel and her emotions were a lot closer to the surface than she usually let them be.

"Who's Santos?" Diesel asked after a long pause.

"Lester Santos is one of my co-workers at RangeMan and also my friend," she replied even as a flash of the night on the couch crossed her mind.

"Whoa, good friend," Diesel said, grinning evilly.

"It's not like that." He raised his brows. "Okay, it was almost like that, but I'm not in love with Les. He's just very sweet and too damned sexy."

"You think I'm sexy and you're not climbing into my lap."

"God, get out of my head!" she cried, pointing an admonishing finger at his chest.

Diesel drained the rest of his coffee, his eyes smiling at her over the rim of his mug and hers glaring at him over the rim of her own.

"C'mon. I think I really need to kick someone in the balls today," Stephanie growled, almost smashing her mug on the counter. She grabbed her phone and keys, clipping them to her belt with everything else.

Diesel laughed and magicked the door locked behind them.

#

Diesel let out a low whistle. "You weren't kidding."

Stephanie was standing over one Andy Scott, hands fisted on her hips. Andy was writhing on the ground, holding himself and probably wishing he'd been born an Andrea instead.

"He tried to fondle me and I'm in a shitty mood," Stephanie replied. She leaned down toward the whimpering man. "You're lucky I don't zap you just for the hell of it, pervert."

Andy didn't do much in the way of an answer besides start making a noise that sounded a lot like, "Nononononono."

Stephanie rolled the skip onto his stomach and cuffed him, slapping the bracelets on him maybe a little tighter than necessary, but she really was in a shitty mood.

"You always that mean?" Diesel asked.

"Not always. Help me get this idiot up, will you?"

Diesel didn't have any trouble lifting Scott off the ground by the back of his shirt and dragging him to the Bronco. He handled the two-hundred-pound man like he weighed sixty, tossing him into the back seat and shutting the door.

"That strength thing _is_ convenient," Stephanie commented as they climbed into the SUV.

"Serves a purpose," Diesel replied. He checked the digital clock display. "It's almost noon and we've already cleared up two of your skips. How 'bout lunch?"

"Yeah. We'll pick something up and take it to the office. I told Lula we could have lunch today. I'm sure she'll be thrilled to see you."

"She's not going to blow anything up, is she?"

"Only her spandex."

#

Two chicken buckets from Cluck-in-a-Bucket, four large fries, four bladder exploding Cokes divided between herself, Diesel, Lula, and Connie, and two hours later Stephanie was feeling fat and greasy and ready for a nap. She slumped in the passenger seat of the Bronco as Diesel navigated traffic.

Her phone chirped and she knew it was a call from RangeMan just by the sound.

"Talk," she answered. Amazing how her phone etiquette had deteriorated over the last year.

"Babe."

Stephanie sat up straight in her seat, heart hammering. Ranger's ringtone on her phone was still the Batman theme song, so he was calling from a land line in the Haywood building. The sneaky bastard.

"Ranger," she answered, forcing her voice to stay level, knowing her pause had been too long.

"We need to talk," he said, and the concern she'd felt the day before threatened to rise up and choke her. He sounded exhausted and she could picture his face, looking the way it had after they'd returned to her apartment after their fieldtrip to find information on Scrog.

Tamping down on her emotions, Stephanie clenched the phone tight enough to hear the plastic creak. "I don't see what there is to talk about."

"I see plenty," he countered, his blank tone not really earning any points with her.

"I'll be at RangeMan tomorrow. If this is about work, can it wait?"

"I don't want to talk shop. I want to talk about us."

Dead silence on both ends, and Stephanie had a sneaking suspicion that even her heart had stopped. Diesel had pulled into her parking lot and shut off the engine, his face turned to watch her.

Stephanie wasn't sure if she could handle one of Ranger's relationship talks. They always ended badly for her, and while everyone was convinced Ranger wanted her as more than a sex toy or a line item on his budget, she still wasn't completely convinced. She was willing to concede that Ranger was regretting cutting off their friendship, but just because he still wanted to fuck her didn't mean he wanted to commit to her.

"Ranger, I-" she began, the refusal already forming on her lips.

"Stephanie," he interrupted, and she could hear the strain in his voice. "Please."

Fuck. He knew she couldn't say no to 'please'. Ranger said 'please' and she was a goner. She wrapped her fingers over the phone's mic, clenching her eyes shut. She felt Diesel take her hand and she gripped it tightly as she took a shuddering breath before uncovering the mic to respond.

"So talk," she commanded, hoping the trembling in her hands wasn't transferring to her voice.

Ranger hesitated on the line before answering. "Can you meet me on seven? Around eight? I'll have Ella prepare something to eat."

Stephanie shot Diesel a desperate look. She hadn't been alone with Ranger in his apartment since that fateful night six months ago. Just thinking about how easily he could bring her defenses to ruins in that place had her feeling the razor's edge of an anxiety attack.

A thread of hope was trying to spin itself out of his words, tempting her with the possibility that he would tell her what she'd wanted to hear for so long. That some part of her had been yearning to hear since the night he'd taken her again and again, filling her and consuming her so fully that it had felt like so much more than just a friendly fuck.

He'd been another man that night. A man she so rarely got even a glimpse of. After he'd walked away from her she'd told herself it had all been a part of the experience; that Ranger had coaxed those feelings from her with his perfectly balanced mix of passionate domination and incredibly tender patience, sometimes drawing every thrust out so slow that she was writhing, panting, begging him. And when she was clutching him, bucking, he'd slide back inside of her, holding her gaze, one arm wrapped around her back, his fingers tangled in her hair while he held her jaw with his other hand, the rough pad of his thumb sliding back and forth over her lips.

It had been like brushing up against something so immense as to be almost spiritual. A force of emotion that had left her breathless, almost sobbing, aching with the overwhelming power of it and feeling like something amazing was happening between them.

She'd been so sure she'd seen that same realization in Ranger's eyes, but when he'd left the next morning with no warning, no sign of even respect for the friendship she'd believed they had, she'd decided that she'd been wrong. That he was exactly as he often seemed; aloof and unaffected, completely self-contained.

When Abruzzi had been found dead of an apparent suicide, she would have denied any suspicions that Ranger had actually pulled the trigger though she knew in her heart that he had. That he'd believed Abruzzi could only be trusted dead and had taken the steps to assure he got that way quickly.

She'd been a little disgusted with herself for first thinking about what it meant about Ranger's feelings for her; about the emotion she'd thought she'd felt in him. And he'd continued to pursue a friendship with her and to stroke the attraction between them.

When Julie had been kidnapped and Scrog had been hell bent on becoming Ranger by collecting the people important to him, she'd gotten more glimpses of the man behind the mask. Maybe Ranger didn't wear the cape and the cowl, but he definitely hid his true identity behind his control.

Then there'd been his face when he'd found her locked in Stiva's cabinet, his relief at discovering she was alive. Later, his statement that he could never forgive himself if she were hurt while assisting him in Scrog's apprehension and Julie's rescue had reached into her heart and turned it upside down.

There was a man behind the persona she referred to as Batman, and he was far more intriguing than any other part of Ranger. That man seemed to be a well of emotion and breathtaking passion. She'd been sure that man was just waiting for her to finally find her own way and take a leap without Morelli as a safety net.

That man was on the wind.

"Babe, you there?"

'Breathe,' Diesel mouthed at her and she took another shuddering breath, shaking her head.

It was too soon. This wasn't a conversation she was ready to have yet, whatever the outcome. She would be too vulnerable in Ranger's apartment, on edge and less likely to be able to protect herself from more heartache.

Aching to just take whatever he would give her, to risk living in limbo between friendship and commitment like they'd done before, she hesitated, stretched taut between two desires.

"I can't, Ranger." A tear tracked down her cheek as she closed her eyes, rolling hot to drip off her chin onto her lap. "I don't trust you." This almost a sob.

His voice came over the line, tearing her. "Stephanie-"

She disconnected.

#

"I can't, Ranger," she whispered. "I don't trust you."

The sob in her voice was a fist in his chest, tightening around his heart. This wasn't the way it was supposed to be. "Stephanie-" he tried again, feeling like he was losing her for good. That he'd left it too long.

The line went dead before he could continue, cutting him off. He continued to hold the phone against his ear, desperate to hear her voice again, cursing himself for bringing her coffee and doughnuts instead of apologies and promises.

It wasn't until the handset began making the repetitive disconnection tone that he set it down in the cradle, turning it off.

He couldn't believe he'd been in her apartment just a few hours earlier and had let his pride get in the way of telling her what he felt. Diesel's presence shouldn't have been enough to deter him. Also, inviting Stephanie to meet him at the same place he'd so callously treated her probably hadn't been his greatest idea.

Ranger leaned his elbows on the desk, gripping fistfuls of his hair. He glanced up at the computer screen to stare at the little huddle of icons that indicated Stephanie was still sitting in her parking lot. The RangeMan SUV, her gun, and purse were all huddled together in one spot, unmoving.

He had no idea what to do. It had always been in his nature to go after what he wanted. To disassemble any situation or problem and find his way to a solution.

When Stephanie had been angry with him before he'd always forced her hand, breaking the cycle of avoidance and denial and making her to listen, even to the things she didn't want to hear. To put himself in her space and make her deal with him. When Stephanie couldn't handle any more, she went into denial, running away from the situation. He'd been guilty of it, too.

Time was slipping away from him and he didn't want to spend another six months without her in his life. Her role as his employee wasn't cutting it. He hadn't realized how empty and cold his life had been without her in it.

His work had been his life for so long that Stephanie's presence had been the sunshine he hadn't known he was craving. She made him smile. She even made him laugh. Her total enthusiasm for life and challenge never ceased to amaze him. Nothing stopped her or brought her low for long. She refused to be afraid of him. She was always curious about what lay behind the persona he maintained in order to function in the world he lived in.

Most women were impressed by his looks, his body, the cars he drove, and the money. They thought to secure those things through him, to access some lavish lifestyle they believed he was the gateway to.

Stephanie was just the opposite. She liked the cars and the expensive sheets. She'd even been a little awed by the building on Haywood Street and the fact that he maintained a full-time in-house staff, but she'd never made him feel like that those were the things that drew her to him. She'd always seen him first.

Ranger had to get her to listen. He had to tell her he loved her.

#

His mouth was on her. Oh, she tasted like sunshine and first times. She smelled like jasmine and vanilla. Her blue eyes were sparkling as she held his face in her hands.

She was a siren. He had to have her. All of her. He was so hard he thought he was going to hurt himself. Those little whimpering noises she made when she was getting ready to lose control were slipping out of her wet, parted lips.

Ranger dipped his head, catching Stephanie's lower lip between his teeth, bathing it with his tongue, tracing the seam. Her hands slid to his shoulders and then around his back before spearing up into his hair, holding his head against hers as he dipped into her, his tongue sliding past her teeth, dueling with hers.

A shuddering groan rumbled out of him and he tightened his hold on her, feeling her bare breasts, so perfect and beautiful, rubbing against his chest.

"Please," she moaned, her mouth traveling across his cheek to his ear, her breath hot and moist, mirroring that other heat he wanted to sink himself into.

The head of his cock was just barely brushing against her tight opening and he swore she purred. Her heels were pressed into his lower back, urging him closer but he resisted, sliding one hand around to find her breast and ever so gently pinch her nipple.

Stephanie bucked, hard, biting his earlobe, her sudden motion slipping the head of his cock inside of her and she cried out, shaking.

Ranger was sweating. "Babe. Wait," he panted. He was so close and he hadn't even pushed inside of her. Her fingers tangled tight in his hair, clenching as she lowered herself back to the mattress, her breath rasping in out of her lungs. He rolled her nipple between his fingers and she sank her teeth into his shoulder where it met his throat, her tongue sliding over his flesh, her moan humming against him.

"You're killing me," she whispered and he clenched his jaw. For some reason those words hurt something inside of him. He rocked, slipping in and out.

"Please. Ranger. God, please."

"Please, what, Babe?" he prodded, repeating the motion, forcing himself to maintain his control. She felt so good. He wanted to sink inside of her, lose himself there.

"Please, I want you. In me. Now." Her words were broken by her labored breathing and he had to give it to her. He had to take it for himself.

Sliding the hand on her breast down her abdomen, through the neat little V of curls at the apex of her thighs, and lower still until his fingertip brushed against the slick folds below. She was so hot and wet he had to press his mouth against hers, thrusting his tongue past her lips as he slid his middle finger deep inside of her, curling it up against her pelvis, his thumb stroking her clit in tiny circles.

"Yes," she hissed, nipping at his lips, her nails scratching a stinging trail down his back. He slid in a second finger, pressing his thumb against her harder. She clenched around him, her mouth now against his throat, open in a soundless moan. He tongued her ear and she shuddered, bucking, her orgasm ripping through her while he continued to stroke inside of her with his fingers.

As a second wave hit her, he slid his fingers out quickly and slid his cock in her to the hilt, triggering her release to come again, his name on her lips as she slammed her hips up into his, her feet flat against his thighs so she could tilt herself up against him, taking him deeper yet.

"Fuck. Babe. I can't-"

Her arms were wound around his neck, her mouth stopping his words, her tongue mimicking the rocking of her hips.

"Now," she urged. "Don't wait. Give it to me now." Her words were urgent, gritted from between her teeth, and it was as if he heard her voice against his mouth and also echoing from far away, and it was full of pain.

His release hit him and she cried out as he spilled deep inside of her, repeating her name like a litany as she came with him. He was shaking, his weight balanced on his elbows, his forehead pressed against hers.

"Ranger," she whispered, her hands stroking slowly up and down his back, her inner muscles still clenching and trembling around him, dragging little shudders out of him with every little pulse.

"Yeah, Babe."

"I'm outta here."

He lifted his head, eyebrows drawing together. "What? No."

Her face was perfectly blank, her voice cold. "See ya."

Ranger tightened his arms around her, shaking his head, but she was smoke, gone, evaporating, leaving him pressed into the mattress, clutching at air.

He came awake with a jerk, thrusting his arms straight out under him, lifting up off the mattress, staring down at the blank space beneath him, his sheets damp with perspiration. He continued to stare at the blank spot. She'd been right there. He could still feel her body clutching his and the orgasm that had wracked him in time with hers.

His arms gave and he collapsed on the bed, burying his face in the pillow with a groan. Ranger hadn't had that dream in months, and it had never ended like that. It had always ended with him leaving or with a fade out into something else. It had never ended with _her _leaving _him_.

This one hadn't been a dream of the past, but a glimpse of the future. He was going to lose her.

#

The dream was amazing. Ranger was making love to her just as he'd done when they'd been together that one amazing, heart breaking night. His hands and his mouth were driving her wild, but there was a strain around his eyes and in his jaw that spoke of the control he was wielding over his own desires, stoking her up, driving her wild until she was thrashing and begging him to fill her.

When he finally did she'd been consumed with yet another orgasm on top of the untold number of others, but he was barely holding on this time and she urged him to come, right there, to let loose the control and just give it to her. And he did, shuddering, repeating her name again and again.

Stephanie curled into a tight ball, clenching her eyes shut as the resounding blare from her alarm pounded her awake.

Diesel growled something unintelligible and lashed out with a long arm right over the top of her, knocking the clock across the room and stopping its obnoxious tone when the cord came unplugged from the wall. She couldn't work up any indignation that he'd probably just broken the clock.

The arm dropped down and wrapped around her middle, pulling her back against Diesel's chest. He was warm and smelled of the hormone and heart wrenching combination of Christmas and Bulgari. And while he may have possessed supernatural powers, he was obviously like every other man she'd ever known in at least one respect: He got morning wood.

The Bulgari smell, coupled with her battered emotions, was doing bad, bad things to her resolve. How easy it would be to rub herself against him. She would just have to arch her back a tiny bit and her ass would slide against his length and it would be blatantly obvious what she was doing.

Diesel said he wouldn't stop her if she threw herself at him and Stephanie hated that she felt fragile enough to contemplate it. She bit her lip, holding herself perfectly still, unable to pull away but unwilling to take that step toward immediate physical release. She was going to hell for even thinking about these things.

First Santos, and now Diesel? Christ, this was getting out of hand. She didn't want to do something desperate and impulsive. Not even something as hot as Diesel. But his warm breath was ruffling her hair and he shifted slightly, his arm tightening, his legs curling up a tiny bit higher, the tops of his thighs pressing into the bottom of hers. His all-too-tempting and conveniently placed erection snugged up tight between her cheeks with the movement and she sucked in a sharp breath.

_Holy shit. Bad thoughts. Bad thoughts. Stop. Don't think about it. Oh, but it's hard. It's very, very hard._ A little whimper was trapped behind her clenched teeth.

She couldn't stop thinking. In her mind, she reached back and pressed her hand against Diesel's rippling abdomen, just above the elastic band of his shorts. She'd be able to feel the silky hairs that trailed down the center of his washboard stomach as she skimmed her hand downward and into his boxers.

It would be so easy to just wrap her fingers around his length and roll her hips and he'd be pressed against her opening, her tiny shorts and the scrap of lace beneath wouldn't be a real barrier. One smooth movement and he'd be inside of her.

Just as that thought had her digging her fingernails into her palms Diesel's breathing changed. He sucked in sharply and held the breath.

"Don't. Move." His voice was a ragged growl. "Whatever you do, stay still."

She did, barely, his voice rasping over her super sensitive nerves like a caress.

Diesel's chest was hot against her back. The fingers of the hand resting in a loose fist against her stomach were suddenly splayed flat on her abdomen and she felt a slight trembling in him, as if he was barely restraining him.

This was bad.

Stephanie felt his head move, his mouth moving near her ear, hovering. Then gliding lower, the rest of his body perfectly still, almost humming. His lips brushed against the side of her neck, sliding down to rest ever so lightly on the smooth skin where her neck met her shoulder.

"Get out of the bed." His lips moved against her skin and she shuddered. "If you don't get out now, something either very, very good or very, very bad is going to happen and you're not going to stop me.

Stephanie bolted, rocketing off the mattress and away from him, zooming out the door and into the bathroom. She turned on the shower and jumped in, not even waiting to take off her pajamas or for the water to heat up.

It was ice cold and it wasn't doing her any good. She felt sure that she was so burning hot that the water would surely turn to steam the second it hit her. Something had to happen and it had to happen that very minute or she was going to dive back into that bed and take it past dirty thoughts and make it into dirty actions.

The water was heating quickly and she pulled off her clothes, throwing them over the curtain rod where they plopped wetly on the floor. She grabbed the shower massager and closed her eyes. Not even close, but it was the only thing that was going to keep her from doing something she'd really regret.

#

Stephanie slumped out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel. Diesel was on the couch, the TV on. His brown eyes swept over her slowly and she felt her mouth go dry.

"Get in your room, Stephanie," he said, his voice low. "And don't touch the towel by the bed. I'll rinse it out later."

Stephanie dove into her room, slamming the door shut behind her, leaning back against it.

That was too close. That was very, very bad. Everything was getting way more complicated than she was confident she could handle. There were too many uncontrollable factors getting introduced into this whole mess and she was dancing on razor blades.

Diesel had always had the ability to get her feeling heated. Neither of them had ever gotten even close to acting on it if you ignored a very few examples. Compared to what she'd let Ranger get away with while she was still with Morelli, it was insignificant.

This was way different. She'd been getting laid regularly then. She'd been dealing with normal things, like car explosions and stalkers. Now she was so wound up over Ranger she was ready to jump the bones of the first guy that showed her a tiny amount of affection. Diesel, surprisingly supportive and offering comfort, was intensely likable on top of movie star sexy. Lester was presenting the same problem. And both reciprocated at least the physical attraction.

Shoving a trembling hand through her hair, knocking off the towel wound around her head, she turned to the closet, her eyes passing over the single towel Diesel must have dragged out of her hamper. A flush suffused her skin and she quickly turned away, dropping her own towel and dressing quickly in Tuesday's RangeMan uniform. She was going to go to work as soon as she had a cup of coffee in her and shoot the shit out of a million paper targets.

She was going to write on the targets before she shot them. Things like 'frustration', 'bull shit', and 'kill me now'. If she'd been a little braver, she thought she might have included 'masturbation' on her list of things to write on a target, because it clearly wasn't doing her any good, and that pissed her off too.

After she'd blasted all her frustration, bull shit, and suicidal urges into confetti, she was going to take a long, cold shower at RangeMan and then she was going to bury herself in searches. At lunch time, maybe she'd lie to Bobby. She'd tell him she wanted to go over a few of the self-defense moves he'd been showing her. Then she was going to beat on him for a while until she felt better.

It wasn't the best plan she'd ever had, and she wasn't sure it was going to do anything for her, but it was some sort of plan and she was going to stick with it.

Pointedly ignoring the towel, she crammed a black ball cap over her wet hair after knotting it on the back of her head. Her utility belt was on the bedside table and she clipped it on, double checking her equipment.

When she felt like she could at least present herself in public, she left the room. Diesel was standing in the kitchen, staring blankly into Rex's cage and dropping first one Cheerio and then one raisin at a time into Rex's food bowl. A pot of coffee was just finishing up brewing.

"Diesel."

He looked at her and she thought maybe he'd be angry, but his lips twitched slightly at the corners and the usual deviant sparkle she was used to flashed in his eyes.

"That was a very close call, Honey," he said and his voice was almost as low as it had been in bed and when he'd told her to get out.

Stephanie grabbed a couple of mugs out of the cupboard and reached for the carafe. When she turned back to the cups Diesel was dumping Bailey's into both.

"Stop that. I can't drink that. I'm practicing on the gun range."

"If you're feeling half as worked over right now as I do, you're going to need this to keep from jumping out of your skin the next time you hear a loud noise."

She hesitated and then began pouring coffee in over the Irish Cream, conceding that he had a point. She was feeling wound tighter than a spring. If she went to work feeling this wired she might give herself a heart attack when the gun went off.

They drank their coffee in companionable silence, neither willing to touch the subject of what had happened in her bed with a ten foot pole. Some parts of a friendship were best forgotten. _Or at least shelved away until you had more time alone in the shower_.

"Knock it off. Christ."

"I've got to get out of here," Stephanie cried and downed the rest of her coffee. "You!" she pointed at him but she didn't have anything else.

"Me? I can't even begin to keep up with your dirty mind right now. You better get this Ranger shit cleared up because otherwise, you're going to go up like a torch. I'm telling you right now, sexual frustration is the true, leading cause of Spontaneous Human Combustion, and you're a block of C4 waiting for a trigger."

Stephanie knew he was right and she headed for the door. She noticed Diesel already had his boots on and was following her.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm leaving. I need a cigarette so bad I'm dying."

"You don't smoke," she countered as they slipped out the door.

"I know, but sometimes it's all you can do."

She eyed him as she locked up. "I'll drive."

#

Stephanie let out a long stream of smoke. "Oh, man. I had no idea I needed this."

Diesel was nodding, expelling smoke through his nostrils like a dragon. "I told you. The trick is _not_ buying another pack after the first one. You just smoke the one and then move on with your life."

"That sounds like the voice of experience," she commented. This was ridiculous and strangely fun. They were standing behind the corner mart, chain smoking cigarettes, both leaning against the wall. Stephanie hadn't picked up a stogie in close to ten years and she'd initially thought she was going to hate it after such a long break, but it seemed her lungs remembered what to do and she'd puffed her way through two in no time, easily keeping pace with Diesel. He didn't look like a stranger to tobacco with the cigarette dangling from his lips.

"I don't have to do this often, but this is one of those times."

She grinned at him. "You want me bad."

"Don't remind me. I'm trying to be sensitive here. Keep teasing me and I'll forget I'm a nice guy."

"I'm not trying to make this difficult," she answered.

Diesel looked away from her and took a long drag. "I know," he agreed, exhaling. "That's what makes it even harder."

Stephanie turned her gaze ahead as well, savoring the smoke. "That's what he said."

#

**YO:** Okay, smut! Not THE smut (I promise), but smut all the same. And I know, I'm bad. I just had to get Diesel worked up again. He's so hot I'm having Unmentionable hot flashes ;) Good thing he's a nice guy, eh?

I hope you guys liked this chapter. I really wish I could write more, but this chapter took way longer than I thought and, speaking of cigarettes, I need one before I hit they hay. Because what time is it? It's just short of 4am. This is some sort of ritual with me. No matter if I try to pump a chapter out during daylight hours, it just doesn't get done the way I want until the wee hours of morning.

I've got a headache like a freight train is making regular runs through my sinuses.

I hope the next chapter doesn't take this long ;) I can't wait to hear what you think.


	10. Chapter 10

**NOTE:** I wrote this over about three or four days and was so pleased to read through it and feel like it turned out decent. I usually write a chapter all in a day, maybe taking a few breaks for 'real life', but usually it's a one day deal. Breaking it up made me feel like I was writing a disjointed mess, but after reading it start to finish I'm feeling pretty good about it. I hope you like it too!

Sorry it took longer than I thought. I know I said before the weekend was out, but it's just been one of those weekends and I couldn't wrap my head around it.

I'm starving for your feedback. I've turned into an absolute junkie.

Really hoping I got all (most) the typos. It's not four am yet, but it will be soon.

**SPOILERS:** Up until _Plum Spooky_, but please keep in mind that the last numbered book I read was _Lean Mean Thirteen_ and I only have a vague idea of what happens in _Fearless Fourteen._ I've probably got some of the story timeline fuckered up, but we'll go with creative license and you can just enjoy the ride.

**RATING:** 100%, balls to the wall, SMUT. Grade A, turned on the author, Doomsday Orgasm narration. And language. Oh, and some booze and cigarettes, because I'm a dirty pirate and had to slip some of my own vices in there.

**CHAPTER TEN:**

She was on the gun range, blasting away. He was watching her on the monitor, running through scenarios for a successful conversation that didn't end in an argument or a blank stare. From either of them. He was feeling argumentative. Not a good sign.

After he'd returned to RangeMan after ducking out of Stephanie's apartment, cursing himself for a fool, he'd been distracted. He kept finding himself reading the same line in a report again and again.

Desk work hadn't been cutting it. He'd needed to do something physical. There were a couple high bond skips that needed collecting and one of them was a regular that usually put up a fight. He'd called Tank to suit up and meet him in the garage. Kicking in a door and handcuffing someone would alleviate some of the tension. Maybe Tank would throw the guy out a window.

The takedown went exactly as he'd hoped. No one injured if you discounted when the skip 'accidentally' slipped on the way out of the house, slamming his head into the doorjamb and again on the way into the SUV.

He'd put up a fight, blasting the door with a sawed-off. Tank had kicked the door almost immediately after, catching the idiot trying to get a look through the buckshot spray in the face.

Ranger went in and let the guy put up a bit of a fight, just so he could put a little more force into subduing him, and that had been it.

Tank hadn't brought up Stephanie and neither had Ranger. They'd worked together with the same ease and trust they'd had for years and that had been a comfort in itself. Ranger knew his actions were affecting his professional life as well as his personal life. Stephanie, while distant and all business with him, was uniformly adored by his men and returned the sentiment.

The guys were impressed with her tenacity and her will to improve. They all loved to watch her eat and so brought her various things throughout the day. Ella would leave take-home bags for Stephanie because she knew Steph had been avoiding her mother and didn't cook much for herself, unless it was microwavable macaroni or grilled cheese sandwiches.

The side effect of Stephanie's complete acceptance into the RangeMan ranks was that all the guys felt like they had to protect her personally. Even from him, if necessary.

After turning in the body receipt to Connie, they'd gone back to RangeMan and he'd called Stephanie, inviting her to his place for dinner. He wanted to tell her how he felt, that he wanted her in his life. To ask for her forgiveness and assure her that she'd have a place at RangeMan as long as she wanted it, even if she didn't want him. And she'd turned him down.

Then the dream that had ended as a nightmare.

Now he was feeling the lack of sleep as he watched her unload clip after clip into paper targets. The camera was behind her booth so he couldn't see her face, but he could see that she was writing something on each of her targets. She was currently writing something on another.

Finished, she stepped to the side to put a new clip into her Sig and her face was shown in profile. She was crying, wiping tears off her cheeks with her fingertips. He swept his eyes to the target she'd left in sight and felt a sickening lurch as he saw "Ranger" printed in block letters across the target's 'face'.

The target was set and he watched her extend her arms, taking aim. He waited with baited breath for her to unload on the target the way she had on the others, but she didn't. After what seemed to be hours but must have only been a minute or two she lowered the gun, holstering it at her hip. She towed the target in, removed her earphones and safety glasses, and then placed her palms on the counter before her, hanging her head.

Stephanie's head went up suddenly, turning toward the entrance to the gun range while she simultaneously tore down the target. Her hands flexed as if to crumple the target up, but she hesitated, looking down at it, and he saw emotions, unrestricted, filter clearly across her face. Loneliness, longing, anger. She folded the target up quickly and stuck it into her cargo pocket on her left thigh just as Santos stepped into view.

Ranger stiffened and activated the volume so he could hear what they were saying, but Santos stepped between Stephanie and the camera, his hands on his hips, head tilted down to look at her. They were keeping their voices low and it was hard to hear anything they said.

After a few moments, Stephanie moved closer to Santos and he wrapped his arms around her, resting his cheek on her hair. Her arms were around his waist and then they stepped apart and moved out of sight.

Ranger brought up a view of the range from the main entrance and watched them walking together towards the camera, but nothing happened. Santos had hugged her. She'd hugged him back. End of story. Stephanie hugged almost everyone in the building on a pretty regular basis. All the guys had a habit of making themselves available for her hugs as often as possible. Ranger wasn't the only one that had benefited from Stephanie's friendship; he was just the only one stupid enough to throw it away.

#

Ranger moved quickly down the stairs to the third floor. Stephanie was in the locker room and he wanted to catch her before she got in the shower. He didn't want to run into Santos coming out of the elevator on five so he took the stairs instead.

Walking through the gym, he entered the locker room. It was silent but he knew she was in there and he could see that the handicap bathroom door was open, lights off. She wasn't in there yet.

"What's up?"

Ranger looked around. Steph's voice was coming from around the shower bank. She must have been at the sinks. He was quiet for a moment and then stepped forward.

"The silent thing is freaking me out, Ranger. If that's you, just say something."

He felt a smile kick up a corner of his mouth. "It's me," he answered and stepped into her line of sight a moment later.

"I know." She hesitated and he studied her face. She looked tired. "I always know when it's you," she added.

He always knew when it was her, too.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, her voice carefully neutral where he normally would have expected defensiveness.

There were a few scraps of paper on the counter near her hip where she'd hitched it, leaning to the side. A small wastebasket near her booted feet was full of more scraps, torn thin.

Her face remained blank but her eyes dipped down for a moment and she studied the paper before meeting his gaze again.

"We need to talk," he started and she took a small step back, placing her palms flat on the counter. He thought maybe she was going to walk out on him, but instead she hopped up and sat on the edge of the counter, leaning back on her hands.

"The floor is yours," she said quietly, eyeing him warily.

Ranger had Stephanie's attention and could feel the words that described his emotions were all blending together. _Focus, Manoso_, he admonished himself. _Don't fuck this up_.

"I miss you," he said, going with the most basic of things on his list to tell her. Fury whipped lightening fast across her face before she could hide it, but she stowed it away and waited for him to continue.

"I miss everything about you. I miss talking to you and listening to you talk. I miss having a reason to smile." That had just poured out. Ranger took a deep breath and, while he could see a sheen of tears in her eyes, her expression didn't change and she didn't say anything.

_Keep going_. "I fucked up, and no matter what, I want you as my friend again. As much as you're willing to give. I regret every day that I threw your friendship in your face and belittled all that you've done for me. I know you would do anything to help me because you're my friend, and I imagine how I've treated you for the past six months made it seem like none of those things had any worth."

A tear rolled down her cheek and he ached to reach out and wipe it away. She swallowed hard and looked upward, blinking.

When her gaze came back to his her eyes were almost electric blue, shimmering with more unshed tears. "No price, Ranger." Her voice was low, sad. "I didn't know what that meant when you said it to me, and you let me believe whatever I wanted at the time. After Scrog, I thought about you taking those bullets for Julie and me. About having a bomb strapped to my chest. I thought about you swooping in like Batman to save me time and again, in a million large and small ways. I thought about hiding you from the police so I could help you with the Ramos case, help you find Julie. I realized that I'd do it all again, every time, any time, because it was for you and you would always do the same thing for me. Then I knew what it really meant when you'd told me there was no price."

He was about to speak and she held up a hand, gathering her thoughts. "Let me finish. I know I told you to talk, but let me finish." There was panic and desperation tingeing her words and he knew she was on the verge of bolting. He waited.

"That was right after the mess with Petiak. It only took me another month to figure out how to break it off with Morelli in a way that wouldn't lead to a fight. I didn't want to lose him as a friend." She bit her lip and looked down at her boots, and he felt the weight of irony at her words.

Still not looking up she said, "I knew what I wanted, without question or doubt. I was going to take anything I could get, and hope." At that she did look up, and her face was blank but her eyes were full of hurt and confusion, tears sliding silently down her face. "And I didn't even get to keep what I had. You just shut down. Shut me down. Severed the most important friendship in my life with the words that you'd always used to make me feel capable and respected."

"No price and I've been making you pay," he said after a long, intense silence. "I'm so sorry." He stepped toward her slowly, and she didn't stop him when he wrapped his arms around her shoulders, but she didn't hug him back. Her face was tucked against his shoulder and he felt her breathe him in but her arms didn't come up to wrap around his waist the way they once would have and he buried his face in her hair, aching for her, hungry to feel her hold him back.

He knew he should let her go but he couldn't. She smelled like flowers and tobacco, and he was curious about the cigarette smell but didn't say anything. They stayed like that for a few minutes before Stephanie gently reached up and rested her hands on his forearms, pushing him away. He felt a boulder drop into his gut, afraid she was going to do to him what he'd done to her, but she didn't release his arms when he stood back from her.

"I was willing to take whatever you'd give me before, Ranger. When I came to you I was going to tell you we could go wherever you were willing to take me, however you'd take me. I didn't care if all we had was our friendship, as long as I had at least that. I wanted so much more but I wasn't going to beg you for it or try to guilt you into it. I know what it's like to have people guilt you into things you don't want to do and I would never want that for you.

"I'm not willing for that anymore." She paused and closed her eyes, thinking, her brows drawn together in a frown. "I love my job here. I love the men. They make me feel accepted and they take me seriously. They invest their time in me and I'm seeing the benefits. With them, and with my other friends, I've got all the acceptance and support I could ask for." Her thumbs were tracing circles on his arms and he placed his hands to either side of her on the counter, hanging his face before hers. "I can't do that with you, though. I can't let you keep me at arm's length when I want so much more. So you either have to be all with me or just my boss. I'll continue under my RangeMan contract and hope that you let me renew it based on my performance as an employee when the time comes."

He moved to take her back into his arms but she stopped him with a lightening quick hand pressing against his chest. "You need to know what this means, Ranger. This means a partnership between us both. I understand there are aspects of your life, past and possibly present, that you can't always share with me. I'm hoping those are only things that have to do with your career and not with who you are."

She swallowed hard and he could see that laying it all out like this was terrifying her. She looked like she was giving up her last hope. "You can't order me around when we're dealing with my life outside of RangeMan. I will always accept your authority as your employee, and will contribute my input to situations and to the job just as the other guys do, but you can't make decisions about my personal life, even issues of my safety, without talking to me about it. All of it. Nothing held back. I don't need that sort of protection anymore.

"And if any part of you is thinking you can't give me what I want, then you don't really know me at all. It should be obvious I don't want the 'Burg life."

Her gaze was fierce and her jaw was clenched, waiting for him to turn her down.

"You know I love you," he told her, reaching up and cupping her cheek.

"That's not enough anymore," she whispered and gently pushed him away from her. "Think about what I said. I could ask you tell me right now one way or the other, but I've waited this long. Call me when you know which way we're going to finish this, Ranger." She slipped off the counter, standing in front of him and he watched her face go blank even as she slid her hand up his chest to hold the side of his neck. Her thumb brushed against his pulse and he wanted to crush her to his chest and kiss her until she melted against him, but she was looking tapped out.

Even though he wanted to tell her he'd give her everything she was asking for, he wanted her to know he had thought about it. And he wanted to do it somewhere he could get started on making up for all their months apart.

"Will you have dinner with me tonight?" he asked, hoping she'd accept, worried it would push her away. "I'll have Ella cook something and we can talk."

She studied him carefully but she'd successfully repressed any expression. "Okay," she answered after a short pause. "I'll be here at seven. I think I'm going to go home now, if that's alright."

"Whatever you want to do," he replied and brushed a curl that had escaped her ponytail away from her eyes.

Her mouth and eyes tightened slightly and then she was gone, disappearing around the corner, and the sound of the door shutting behind her.

Ranger looked into the trash can and picked up a long strip of paper from the garbage can, recognizing it as the target she'd written his name on but had been unable to shoot. He hoped that was a good sign.

#

Stephanie stayed calm as she took the elevator to the garage. She didn't acknowledge the cameras and felt bad because the guys were probably worried about what might have happened with Ranger in the locker room. She couldn't talk to anyone about it yet, though. Not even Lester. She just had to get out.

Just before the doors slid open in the garage she sent a tight smile to the camera and headed for her car. She drove home and had to park near the dumpster. It was still too early for the seniors in her building to have gone out anywhere yet, but she didn't care. She just wanted to get inside.

"Back so soon?" Diesel called from the living room when she came in the door.

"You haven't smoked all those cigarettes, have you?" she asked, hanging her pocketbook in the foyer.

"No, why? Need a few more?" He was sitting on the couch and it looked like he'd been vegging out to Sponge Bob. She sniffed to make sure he hadn't been smoking in her apartment, but the air just smelled faintly of his own, mind-boggling scent and coffee.

Stephanie entered the kitchen and found that Diesel had indeed brewed another pot of coffee. She laced a mug heavily with Irish Cream and then poured her coffee in over it before heading back into the living room. Diesel had a mug that looked similarly doctored on the coffee table before him, still steaming.

"Grab your coffee and the smokes. We'll go sit on the fire escape," she invited and he stood, snagging his mug and followed her to the window in her bedroom.

Stephanie handed Diesel her mug so she could climb out and then took both cups from him so he could follow. Stephanie sat facing the parking lot, sliding her legs between the rails and dangling her feet over the edge. Diesel leaned back against the building, his boots hanging over the ledge.

"Give me one of those cigarettes." He handed her one and stuck one between his own lips. She held her hand out for the lighter but Diesel touched his finger tip to the end of the cigarette, lighting it.

Stephanie raised both brows. "I didn't know you could do that," she said, impressed.

He repeated the move with his own cigarette and shrugged. "So what's up?"

"I have a date with Ranger tonight."

Diesel lifted a brow, taking a long drag. "How'd that come up?"

"He followed me to the locker room. I would have been in the shower already but I was tearing something up and throwing it in the garbage."

"What sort of thing were you tearing?"

"A range target with Ranger's name written on it," she replied and felt that sick twist in her stomach she'd had as she was scrawling his name across the target, trying to concentrate on being angry but just feeling lost. When she'd pointed her gun at it, ready to fire, she'd found she couldn't even shoot something that represented him. Her mind's eye was playing a vivid video of him going down under a hail of gunfire from Scrog's gun and she'd immediately been disgusted with herself.

"I didn't want anyone to see it so I shredded it. I wasn't expecting him to come out of nowhere like that."

"Did he see the target?"

"I don't think so, but it wouldn't have mattered. I couldn't shoot it."

"And then he asked you for a date?" Diesel prodded.

"I kinda spelled it all out for him and then told him to think about it. He told me he misses me and I told him friendship wasn't going to cut it. All or nothing." Stephanie sighed and chugged down half her coffee. "Then he asked."

"Did you say yes?"

"Yeah. I thought I wasn't living in Ranger limbo anymore, but I'm still right there, at least in my heart. I have to know if this is going to go somewhere or if I should just let it go. I can't keep torturing myself over it." The cigarette was rapidly meeting its end and Stephanie flicked ash over the edge of the fire escape.

"I was thinking about vegging to recharge. Help you finish this pack. Maybe take a nap. We could get some lunch. I don't know. I definitely want to finish the pack though, but we gotta save one for in case the thing with Ranger goes badly. Then I can come home and do a little more slow suicide in self-pity."

"I say we do all those things," Diesel agreed and popped another cigarette into his mouth, lighting it with his previous smoke.

"No fancy finger trick?"

"That one comes and goes. I could show you one I'm always good at, if you'd like." His tone was suggestive and his leer was wolfish.

"Maybe I'll abuse you if Ranger falls through," Stephanie countered, sucking another drag out of her Camel Filter, keeping her tone conversational.

"That plan works for me."

"Good to know."

#

Stephanie smoked a second cigarette and then they headed back inside to get started on the remainder of the coffee and to space out in front of the television. They loaded the coffee table with food and Stephanie was able to push her anxiety for the coming evening out of her mind as she gorged on TastyKakes, soda, cheesecake, and leftovers from her parents house.

A few more cups of coffee and she had a decent buzz going. Her rule to not smoke in her apartment went out the window when she discovered her AC unit had an intake-outtake feature. They opened all the windows in the apartment, grabbed an empty beer bottle for an ashtray, and alternately ate and smoked while watching OnDemand cable.

She absently thought about how nice it was to have the cash to sock some away in the bank and still buy everything she needed and most the things she wanted.

Around three in the afternoon Stephanie realized she'd been dozing on the sofa when Diesel gently shook her awake.

"How about that nap, Honey?" he asked and she stood, rolling her shoulders to get the kinks out.

She shuffled into the bedroom and fell into bed. She stiffened slightly when Diesel stretched on his back next to her and then rolled against his side.

"Can you be my friend and hold me for a while?" she whispered.

Diesel slid an arm around her shoulders and gathered her against his chest. "I'm always your friend," he replied quietly and she felt him kiss the top of her head. "Sleep."

Stephanie closed her eyes, relaxing into his warmth, and did as she was told.

#

Ranger heard Ella enter the apartment with dinner and looked at the clock for the nth time. Six forty-five. Stephanie was due in fifteen more minutes and he felt like a teenager getting ready to take out his first date.

He left his bedroom and headed for the dining area to thank Ella. She was arranging place settings and covered dishes, lighting candles and placing linen napkins folded like lotus blossoms on the two plates. He had no idea what she'd cooked for the meal, but he'd told her Stephanie would be dining with him so he had no doubt Ella had gone all out.

"Thank you, Ella. I appreciate this," Ranger said as he approached the table.

Ella looked up and smiled at him. "_De nada_. I hope you have a lovely evening." She gave the table a once over and then quietly let herself out.

He checked his watch. Six fifty-six. He was certain he'd checked it another eight times before he heard the door opening once more.

Stephanie stepped into sight and he felt his breath catch at the picture she presented. She was wearing a pale blue cotton sundress with spaghetti straps, the hem falling in a full skirt to just below her knees. Her shapely calves were accentuated by strappy little wedge sandals and he could see that her toe nails were painted the same color as her dress.

His gaze wandered up to her face, taking in the minimal makeup and her glossy pout. Her corkscrew curls were loosely pulled back from her face and cascading to just below her sun kissed shoulders.

Something like a smile touched her lips as she walked toward him, her hips swaying seductively. He wanted to pull her against him and see if her lips tasted as good as she looked. He already knew that she would.

"Hi," she said and her voice was slightly wary.

Ranger approached her carefully, drawn in by her eyes. He reached for her hand and she let him take it, watching him as he lifted her palm to his mouth and placed a tender kiss in the center. He felt her fingers brush gently against his face and her eyes were soft.

"Are you hungry?" he asked, lowering her hand to hold it against his chest, over his heart.

She smiled and looked away, scanning the apartment. "It smells delicious," she observed before meeting his eye again. "But, no. I'm not hungry." Her expression became guarded and she gently pulled her hand away from his. "I think I want to get to the talking part."

Ranger swallowed and silently expelled a short breath. "Would you like to sit down?"

Stephanie nodded and he led her to the couch. They sat side by side, her with one leg folded beneath her so she could turn toward him.

She was so beautiful that he found himself staring at her face, drinking her in.

"I thought about what you said earlier," he began. "All I can do is offer an apology for the cruel way I treated you and for shoving you away. I never should have done that."

Ranger reached for her hands and held them in his own, studying her fingers. "I was wrong. I kept telling myself I couldn't offer you what you deserved without even considering what you wanted. I know you don't want the 'Burg." He smiled slightly. "I can't even picture you doing the picket fence and the two-point-five kids. I don't think that's what you picture for yourself either."

Stephanie's fingers tightened around his slightly. "I've never wanted that. I'm doing what I want to do. I'd like to think I'm even getting pretty good at it."

"You are. I've noticed and so have the guys. You're more than earning your keep here and all of RangeMan has benefitted from your presence on a variety of levels. We-" he paused, wanting to make it clear what he meant. "_I_ would hate to lose you."

"And the rest?"

"My life is dangerous, Stephanie. My government contract was up two months ago, but I could still get seriously injured or killed on the job. I have a dark past that could cause problems for me at some point."

"Because _my_ life has been so safe? Because _I'm_ not ever in danger of injury or death on the job, Ranger?" she questioned, a thread of incredulity wrapping her words. She tried to tug her hands away but he held on, keeping her captive before him.

"That's what I've realized," he continued. "I'm not protecting you by avoiding a relationship with you. I'm just protecting myself."

She ceased tugging against his hands and he felt her squeeze his fingers before she rested their clasped hands on her lap. "What have you decided?"

"I love you," he said, searching her eyes. "My heart is cold without you in it."

"But?" she whispered and he saw her lower lip tremble slightly before she brought it under control.

"No buts. No qualifiers. No price." Ranger lifted one hand to cup her jaw and brushed the pad of his thumb over her lower lip. "Let me be a part of your life. I'll give you everything I have to give."

A tear trickled down her cheek and she leaned into his hand. "No more running away? For either of us?"

"No more running," he agreed. "I want to be with you. Forever, Stephanie."

He leaned toward her and gently touched his lips to hers, feeling her breath on his lips, tasting the cherry of her gloss. His eyes were locked on hers, watching her expression, and he could see the wealth of emotion there, slowly bubbling up to erase the blank walls she'd constructed against him.

"This is real?" she breathed and he could see that there was still fear there. That she still wasn't convinced.

Instead of telling her, he decided to show her and slanted his mouth across hers, reaching forward to splay his hands over her ribs, his thumbs stroking just under her breasts.

Stephanie sucked in a breath and suddenly her fingers were in his hair, tightening around the strands to hold his head against hers as he gently traced the seam of her lips with the tip of his tongue. Stephanie opened her mouth and he felt her tongue slide against his, demanding more.

Ranger lifted her and slid back into the couch, pulling her astride his lap, holding her tightly against him, unable to stop his hips from rocking up against her. She moaned into his mouth and wound her arms around his neck, crushing her breasts against his chest.

Groaning, Ranger dipped his head to taste the skin at the hollow of her throat, pressing his tongue against her hammering pulse. The little whimpering noises she was making were driving him wild and he let his hand slide over her ribs and hips to rest on her thighs so he could push the skirt of her dress up around her waist.

Her sex was pressed against his straining zipper and he could feel her heat seeping into him.

"Ranger," she moaned and he hooked his left arm behind her back, arching her over it so he could lick one hard nipple through the thin cotton of her dress. He moved the fingers of his right hand to rest against the lace of her panties, stroking her slit up and down as he tongued her.

Stephanie peeled the straps of her dress down her arms and then lifted them free. Ranger grabbed the neckline of the dress with his teeth and pulled it away from her breasts, exposing them to his view. They were as perfect as he remembered, pale and soft, the creamed coffee color of her nipples begging to be kissed.

"_Dios mio_," he groaned and captured one taut peak with his lips, suckling gently, rolling his tongue over the distended flesh. When he gently grazed it with his teeth she shuddered against him, pressing down hard against his cock, her hips rolling suggestively.

"Slowly, Babe. I've been wanting to do this for a very long time." It was sweet torture to slowly let his mouth drift from one breast to the other. He wanted to tear away the sparse lace of her panties, rip open his own pants, and thrust deep inside of her. His hips were rocking against hers of their own accord and the friction was driving him mad.

His fingers were still sliding gently over her mound and she reached down and grabbed his wrist, pushing his hand more firmly against her. "Please," she whispered. "Touch me. Please."

Ranger took her mouth in another kiss as he pulled her panties aside and carefully spread her wet lips with his thumb and middle finger. He gently brushed her clit with his forefinger and she jerked hard against him, sucking his tongue, one hand tangled in his shirt, the other still holding his wrist, pressing his hand against her.

She undulated against his fingers and he stroked her again, drawing a shivering moan from her chest. He continued the movement until she was clutching him with both hands fisted at his shoulders, her hips tilted and pressing against his hand.

"Tell me when you're gonna come," he rasped against her mouth and she whimpered, her body tensing, her back arching. He watched her face, taking in her dilated eyes, the high flush in her cheeks and throat and her mouth open like she was going to cry out. Her expression was so erotic he felt a primal urge to mark her as his and he caught her throat in a diving kiss, sucking the delicate skin that joined shoulder to neck between his teeth, nipping and licking.

"Don't stop," she gasped, her head thrown back. He felt her fingers in his hair once more, urging his mouth to stay at her throat. "Don't stop."

Ranger continued stroking her clit, feeling her juices soaking into his pants, feeling the tiny shivers that were pulsing through her body with every pass of his finger over her swollen flesh.

Her grasp on his hair was bordering on painful and by the humming tension of her body he could tell that she was on the brink. He bit into her throat a little harder, hard enough to sting and she cried out, hips bucking against his hand as her orgasm tore through her.

He crushed her against his chest, slowing his strokes as he took her mouth in a tender kiss, feeling her body turn boneless and soft.

"I need to be inside you," he growled against her lips. "Let me make love to you, Stephanie."

She deepened the kiss and her hips began to move with more purpose once more, pressing against his hand and down on his throbbing length.

"Yes," she urged. "Take me to bed, Ranger."

He didn't need any further urging. Standing in one smooth movement, he lifted her off the couch, hooking his palms under her thighs as she wrapped her legs around his waist. He walked into the bedroom, not once pulling his lips from hers.

Ranger lowered Stephanie to the mattress and she came up on her knees before him, hair wild and her eyes dark and hooded. Her pink lips were parted and slightly swollen from his kisses and there was a darkening mark on her throat where he'd claimed her. He felt himself tremble when she lifted her hands to his waist and grabbed the hem of his shirt, lifting it slowly, her hands sliding over his abdomen and up over his chest. He took over, pulling the shirt off the rest of the way and groaned when she pressed her lips between his pectorals.

Her tongue moved over his skin, tasting him, and her breath was hot. Ranger tangled his hands in her hair as she moved her mouth lower, placing hot, open-mouthed kisses on his stomach. His abs were twitching under the onslaught of sensations that her mouth evoked and when he felt her tongue trace a line from his navel to the waistband of his pants he'd had enough.

Ranger discarded his pants in a moment. He heard Stephanie gasp as her eyes devoured his nude form and then he was pulling her dress over her head. She was still wearing her wet, lacy panties and the strappy little sandals. Her pale skin was flushed, her nipples hard little points just begging for his mouth.

He knelt on the bed before her and gathered her into his arms, catching her mouth in another mind numbing kiss. He kissed his way down her throat, pausing at all her favorite spots, lapping the hollow below her ear, the tendons and dips of her throat. He used the pressure of his mouth to bend her back over his arm and continued his downward movement, focusing once more on her breasts until she was writhing in his arms.

He laid her gently on her back and hooked his fingers in the waistband of her panties, pulling them down her long legs and over her heeled shoes. He used his hands to push her thighs apart and she arched her hips under his gaze, silently asking him to touch as well as look.

"You are so beautiful, Steph," he whispered as he drew one finger from her clit to her wet opening. He slowly slid the finger into her, feeling her clench around him and groaned at her heat. "Christ, you're so wet," he managed, feeling his heart pounding hard in his chest, smoothly urged her legs over his shoulders.

Ranger dipped down and slowly licked from his finger to her clit. Stephanie arched up off the bed, crying out.

"Yes," she hissed, her hands finding his head, stroking his hair from his face. "Please."

"Mmm, I like when you say please like that, Babe," he rumbled against her, circling her clit with his tongue, adding another finger to the first that was stroking in a come-here motion deep inside her.

"More," she gasped.

"More?" he mused and moved his tongue in a few rapid strokes, flicking it back and forth. "Like that?"

"Yes!" Her voice was breathless, gasping.

"Or like this?" And he sucked her clit between his lips and began flicking just the tip of his tongue against the hard little nub again and again

She made an unintelligible noise that was all the agreement he needed and he continued to work her with his fingers and mouth, his free hand sliding up to palm one of her breasts, rolling the nipple between thumb and forefinger, rasping the rough pad of his thumb over it, back and forth. She was gasping, her hips arched off the bed, only her upper back and shoulders still in contact with the mattress as he brought her closer and closer to the edge.

"I'm gonna-" she began but was cut off by him pinching her nipple.

Ranger didn't need for her to finish her sentence. She was so close and he wanted to feel her come undone against his mouth, to taste her as she came for him.

A moment later, she did, screaming his name, hips writhing. He grasped her hips in both hands, holding her still as he licked her, lapping her juices from her skin.

Her breath was coming in little desperate gasps and he quickly moved his body up hers, her slick skin facilitating his movement so that his flesh moved easily over hers until he could capture her mouth with his, sharing her taste with her.

Stephanie whimpered, arching against him, feeling the head of his cock pressed against her. He moved his hand over her hip and down her leg until he could hook a finger in the heel strap of her sandal, pulling it off her foot. He caressed the arch and then repeated the motion with her other foot.

Her legs wrapped high around his back and he stared into her eyes. "Watch," he commanded, taking his cock in his hand and sliding the tip up and down against her opening, rocking his hips slightly every time it brushed her clit.

He turned his attention away from what he was doing to her face and watched her watching them. Her breath was coming in little pants and a moan caught in her throat. Her legs tightened around him.

"Ranger, please," she begged, rocking her hips. She lifted her shoulders off the bed and bit into his shoulder. "Now. Please."

"Mmm," he groaned. "I love 'please'." Then he rocked forward hard, sliding into her hot, wet walls in one smooth motion.

Stephanie flexed around him, squeezing him like a fist and he pressed his hips hard into her, holding onto his control by a thread.

"Christ, Babe, you're so tight," he growled, holding himself perfectly still.

Her teeth were still against his skin and she nipped him sharply. "Now." Her voice was raw, demanding.

Ranger slid his cock out of her slowly and then slammed himself back in to the hilt. "Now," he agreed, his voice guttural. He picked up a pounding rhythm and grasped a handful of her hair, pulling her face to his so he could watch her expression.

Stephanie's lips were parted, her breath panting across them and warming his face. Her eyes were hooded and the blue of a midnight sky. Her pale skin shone like alabaster under a fine sheen of sweat and when she licked her lips he captured them in a kiss, mirroring the thrust of his hips with his tongue. Her own tongue leapt to meet his, swirling and sliding against him, her hips rolling, rocking his cock against her G-spot with every inward glide.

She was making the little noises in her throat that he loved so much, nipping and sucking at his lips and tongue, her lips impossibly soft and still tasting faintly of cherries. He slid a hand between them and found her clit with his middle finger, pressing against it hard and stroking it up and down in rapid little flicks.

"Ranger," she gasped and threw her head back, her hips straining against him. He buried his face against her throat, ravaging her with his mouth, feeling her tighten around him.

"Come for me, _amada_," he commanded and she went taut like a bow beneath him, crying out as her release tore through her. Her fingernails were digging into his shoulders and the mixture of pleasure and pain drove him to thrust harder than ever, pounding through her orgasm until she was writhing again, crying out, her eyes clamped shut. He pressed his teeth into her throat and she came again.

He rode through the pulsing of her body around his, determined to take her farther than she'd ever been. To imprint himself on her body and her soul and show her that he belonged to her, too.

Stephanie was shuddering beneath him, and he studied her, admiring the way her skin almost glowed, occasionally dipping his head to taste soft little patches of skin, drawing the salt of her sweat into his mouth, causing her to shiver and moan.

Ranger took her mouth in a tender kiss, pouring his adoration for her into every stroke of his tongue against hers, caressing her jaw with one hand and tracing little circles with his thumb on her hip.

A little moan passed her lips as she returned the kiss, tangling her fingers in the long strands at his nape, pressing her other hand to his heart.

"I love you, Stephanie," he whispered against her lips, rocking his hips slightly, feeling her tighten around him. He was drowning in her eyes and her lips curled into an amazed smile.

"And I love you, Ranger," she whispered in return and he kissed her again, slowly, reverently.

Moving slow he began to deepen the kiss, grinding himself deep inside of her. When she was gasping, arching against him again he pulled out of her, shushing her protests as he turned her to her stomach.

Stephanie looked back over her shoulder at him, her hair falling around her face in riotous curls, her lips almost red from the passion of his kisses, her eyes intense. She drew her knees up, arching her back and offering herself. He dipped his head, pressing his mouth against her, tasting her, sucking on her when she moaned and ground herself back against him.

Ranger continued to taste her and slid a finger into her dripping heat. "Mmm," he hummed. Her movements were becoming more frantic and he quickly drew himself up behind her, grasped her hips in his hands and thrust deep into her.

Stephanie pressed her face into the pillow, bucking back against him, her hands clenching in the sheets as he began slowly rocking into her.

He wanted to see her face. "Look at me," he commanded and she turned to watch him. He leaned over her back, wrapping an arm around her waist, pressing his chest into her. He was tall enough to kiss her swollen mouth as he drove himself into her again and again.

Ranger splayed his hand across her belly and slid it down to her sex, rubbing his fingers against her wet folds, finding her clit and stroking it.

"Mine," he growled, nipping at her lips. He held his hips against her, grasping her shoulder and pulling her back against him. She tilted her hips and he went deeper, grunting as she clenched around him, her eyes locked on his.

"Mine," she returned, her voice possessive. She tightened even more, rocking, her eyelids flickering. "Mine," she repeated.

"Forever, _amada_," he agreed.

"Come," she urged and reached back, grabbing his hip. "Come with me."

His gut clenched, his body responding to her words. "Babe," he gasped, her command dissolving the rest of his resolve. He clasped her hard against him and came, pouring himself into her, his release setting her off again.

Her face was contorted in pleasure and he pulled her upright, holding her back to his front so she was sitting on his lap, impaled on him with her knees on either side of his legs. He cupped her breasts in his hands, pressing his face into her throat as the most intense orgasm he'd ever experienced rolled through him.

Stephanie lifted her arms up and behind her, grabbing the back of his head and neck, holding his mouth against her throat as she pulsed around him, her hips rolling, her inner walls milking him.

When he felt like he could move again he fell to the side, holding her tight against him, keeping their bodies joined. She pressed back against him, crossing her arms over his, holding him.

Her voice was breathless as she turned her head and placed a kiss under his jaw, flicking out her tongue to taste his skin, rasping it over the stubble growing there. He groaned and squeezed her tighter, feeling his cock throb inside of her and she clenched down around him.

"I love you."

"I'm so sorry I didn't let you love me sooner," he told her, burying his face in her hair. "I'm never letting you go. I'll do anything to keep you."

She slowly pulled her hips away from his and he shook his head, pressing against her again, but she kept moving until he slid out of her body and she could turn in his arms. She slung a leg over his hips, bringing their lower bodies back into contact and he felt his cock twitch against her, already readying for more. He didn't think he'd ever get enough of her.

Stephanie traced the lines of his face, her expression incredibly tender, her eyes full of love. "Just be you," she said quietly, her eyes following the movement of her fingers as she drew a line down his nose, over his eyebrow. She traced along his jaw and then the outline of his lips and he caught her finger between his teeth, biting down gently, sweeping his tongue around the tip.

"Don't go away," she continued, watching his mouth on her finger.

"I didn't go away," he replied but she nodded her head sadly.

"Yes, you did. My Ranger was gone and there was a stranger in his place." Her voice was quiet and full of the pain he'd caused her by shoving her out of his life. Her eyes rose back to his. "I feel like this is a dream," she admitted in a barely-there whisper.

Ranger gathered her against his chest, fighting to not crush her in his arms, wanting to squeeze as hard as he could with the intensity of the emotion clutching his heart.

"No dream. Forever, Steph. This is real. I just hope I can give you enough." His voice was rough, muffled against her hair as he absorbed her scent.

"Promise?" she mumbled against his chest and he tightened his arms fractionally.

"Every day for the rest of my life. I love you, Stephanie. Have for years, will forever."

He pulled back when he felt tears against his throat. "Babe?"

She sniffled slightly and he watched fat tears roll down her cheeks. "It's okay," she whispered and pressed a sweet, slightly salty kiss against his mouth. "These are happy tears."

Ranger bent his head and gently kissed the tears from her face, capturing each one with his lips, feeling a profound tenderness for this woman in his arms. When the tears were gone he pressed his forehead to hers and stared into her eyes.

He watched a slow, deviant smile begin to turn up the corners of her mouth and he felt an answering smile curve up his own lips then growled as she suddenly rocked against him, rubbing against his cock.

"Mine," she whispered and he rolled to his back, pulling her down on top of him, feeling himself slip deep inside her.

"Yes," he agreed.

"Forever."

"And ever."

#

**YO:** So? Was the reconciliation okay? I didn't want to rush it, but I figured Ranger had spent enough time beating himself up and I didn't think another meeting between him and Diesel would have turned out well for anyone involved. They're only men... well, mostly men. Diesel is also something else, but he seems to have all his man-brain hardware wired in most the usual ways.

Did you enjoy the smut? I got a little hot and bothered writing it and then re-reading it. That's usually a sign that it's decent, but I'd love to hear your thoughts. I haven't busted out a sex scene like that in a while. Not on paper, anyways ;)

Don't worry. I'm not going to just leave Diesel sitting in Stephanie's apartment. There's going to be another chapter/epilogue bit to wrap up the loose ends (er, men) and stuff and sort of lead into the Santos story I'm going to write next.

Should have the first chapter of that up as soon as this is done, since it's almost finished now anyways. I was kinda stuck on this for a minute and wrote some of Lester's next bit.

I'll shut the fuck up now. Thanks for reading.


	11. Chapter 11: Epilogue

**NOTE:** This is it; our journey has come to an end. Thank you so much for your feedback and continued support. Sorry it took me nearly a week to crank this out, but it wouldn't be rushed and I'm trying to let the muse stretch at his (yes, my muse is male) own pace so I don't wear him out. Poor thing is trying to keep up, but I kept him caged too long. This was his first extended fieldtrip in a long while.

Ooh, and I took a moment to answer jen4310's question in response to the previous chapter: Stephanie has four confirmed orgasms, and (at least, but as the author, I would advise you to think higher) one more at the very end.

As an added bonus, Ranger and Stephanie's "reconciliation" counted to 3,433 words from the 'first kiss' paragraph to the (ahem) finish. Stephanie got her socks rocked on pages 25, 29, 31, and 34 (in my word processor, double spaced).

Enjoy.

**SPOILERS:** There's no bedroom orgies with Steph, Ranger, Diesel, and Lester, fertile as my mind may be.

**RATING:** Parental guidance is not suggested because if you're under eighteen and your parents catch you reading this stuff they'll probably ground you from the internet. Language, beer, and some slightly milder smut.

**CHAPTER ELEVEN: EPILOGUE**

Ranger reached for Stephanie and came instantly awake when he found the bed empty. She'd slipped out on him. He sat up, listening for movement from the bathroom, but he knew she wasn't in the apartment, he could feel it. And her side of the bed was cool. When the hell had she learned to get out of bed without waking him?

He didn't want to admit it, but there was a thin tendril of panic coiling around his heart as he yanked on a pair of track pants and fetched his cell phone from the living room. He hit speed dial one. He hung up almost immediately when he heard the Batman theme song coming from Stephanie's purse.

Okay, so she wasn't in the apartment, but she was in the building. Feeling a bit like an asshole, but comfortable with it, he booted up his computer and logged into RangeMan's monitoring system, calling up the control room first.

No Stephanie. He flipped through the channels, viewing the break room, the gym, and all the conference rooms until he found her. She was with Santos in the last of the conference rooms and they were talking earnestly, seated in the executive chairs and facing each other, their knees touching. Santos had on his blank face and Steph looked both nervous and a little dreamy.

Jealousy coursed through him like poison and he stood abruptly, ready to storm the conference room and beat the shit out of Santos, but something on the screen made him stop.

Years of Spec Opps had honed his ability to read lips and it was a valuable skill he'd developed and employed time and again. He could have just turned on the volume in the room, but it wasn't necessary.

"He loves me."

Santos smiled slightly and tapped a finger on the end of her nose. "Of course he does, Beautiful. We all told you." He hesitated for a moment and Ranger couldn't blame Santos for the suddenly sad twist to his mouth before he corrected it. "I'm happy for you both. Hopefully this means Ranger will stop being a dick to us, too." He winked at her and Ranger relaxed.

They both stood and Santos wrapped Stephanie in a hug, but it was the same as the hug he'd seen them share on the gun range; purely platonic. Was that just yesterday? It seemed like a lifetime ago.

"So get the hell out of here," Santos told her, pulling away. "Go put him in a good mood so this place can get back to work."

Stephanie jumped up, kissing him on the cheek and then darted out of the room. Ranger flipped through channels, following her progress to the elevator and then her trip to the seventh floor.

The computer was off and Ranger was back in bed, sans track pants, when Stephanie came into the room. He feigned sleep, listening to her disrobe. He was glad he'd chosen to lay on his stomach because it would be obvious to Stephanie that he was wide awake if he was on his back. Just the thought of her jeans dropping to the floor had him rock hard and he reined in his control to keep his breathing even, his muscles still.

After the sound of her pants dropping the room went completely silent. He stretched out his senses, listening for her and was startled when he suddenly heard her voice, right against his ear. The only thing that saved him from jumping was years of training

"I know you're awake, faker." He could hear the smile in her voice and his eyes flashed open to see it dancing across her face.

"And I know you've gotten very sneaky," he countered and rolled to his back, simultaneously grabbing her around the waist and dragging her astride his lap while leaning himself against the headboard.

Stephanie settled into his lap, his erection pressed between their bodies, her breasts flatted against his chest.

"Not the only thing I've gotten," she whispered, taking his face in her hands and kissing him gently, teasingly, delicately licking his lips with just the tip of her tongue, controlling the contact.

He wanted to crush his mouth to hers, fit his lips to hers, suck her tongue, but she just gave him little tastes, her breath warm against his face every time she sighed. She was rocking her hips against his slowly, rubbing her sex against his cock.

A groan shuddered through him as she teased him and herself, her breath becoming more labored. Her hands had slid down to his shoulders and then one hand had curled around the back of his neck, wrapping the strands of his hair around her fingers as she slowly deepened the kiss, giving him her mouth.

Ranger let her dictate the pace, his arms wrapped around her, his hands pressed against her upper back. Her tongue slid into his mouth, inviting him to take a little more. He pressed her even closer, rocking against her slightly, inhaling her gasp.

Her mouth moved to his ear and she nipped at his earlobe, tugging gently. "Now," she urged and Ranger needed no further direction.

He grabbed her hips in his large hands, lifting her up and then down, groaning into her mouth as he filled her.

Their love making was slow and sweet, and Ranger took his time building her up, holding her pelvis tight to his and rocking her so that his cock was stimulating her clit as well as her G-spot.

"Look at me," he commanded and she fixed her eyes on his, watching his face as he rocked her, captivated by the depth of the love and desire in her expression.

Her teeth were gritted, lips parted, her breath coming in little hissing gasps and he felt her clenching tighter and tighter around him.

"Come," he growled, pressing tight against her. "Come for me, _mi amor_."

Stephanie shuddered around him, whimpering against his mouth, internalizing her orgasm. While she was still clenching and pulsing around him, he rolled her beneath him and began moving within her, quickly bringing them both to the brink and then over it again.

She gathered him close, tucking her face into his neck, riding out the aftershocks of their release.

Ranger wrapped his arms around her back, holding his weight up on his elbows and pressed his forehead to hers, the almost black strands of his hair brushing her face.

"I love doing that with you," she whispered, staring into his eyes, seemingly gazing directly into his soul.

Ranger kissed her slow and deep. "Good," he replied. "'Cause I'm going to do it again."

#

Stephanie keyed open her door and stepped into her apartment. "Diesel?" she called, shutting and locking the door behind her. There was no answer and she drew her Sig, clicking the safety off and moving into the darkened apartment.

She went room to room, not holstering her gun until she was sure the apartment was clear. The bed was made, everything was straightened up. The only thing that told her Diesel was still around was his pack, loaded with a few changes of clothes. He'd be back.

Ranger had an account that was demanding his immediate attention and took off a few hours after she'd finished talking with Santos. It had been a relief that Santos seemed genuinely happy for her and she hadn't gotten a single weird vibe from him, so it seemed that their friendship was completely intact. That was a relief; over the last six months, Lester had managed to become as important to her as Morelli.

Figuring it was bad form to leave Diesel cooling his heels in her apartment for any longer than necessary, she'd showered and dressed at Ranger's, pleasantly surprised to find he still had her left-over toiletries stocked in his bathroom. It had made her feel warm and fuzzy throughout the remainder of her morning.

Now, she had to tell Diesel that everything had turned out even better than she'd hoped. She couldn't say it was like the past six months hadn't even happened, and she couldn't look at the experience as a completely negative one. It had forced her to take a hard look at herself and her career choice and start making positive changes to her entire life that would affect her ability to be a successful BEA and RangeMan employee. She might still be bumbling around Trenton, surviving by the seat of her pants and the skin of her teeth, depending on Batman to swoop in and save the day when she got in over her head if things had gone differently.

Deciding that she better hurry up and wait, Stephanie headed into the kitchen and took a cold slice of pizza out of the box left on the counter and snagged a beer from the fridge before plopping down on the couch and flipping on the TV.

She was halfway through the third and last slice of pizza and was tipping back her second beer when there was a pop behind her. She was too relaxed to jump and was proud of herself for being able to casually turn in her seat, stretching her beer arm across the back of the couch to spot Diesel standing behind her.

"Hey," she said, lifting her beer in a little salute.

"Hey, yourself. I wasn't expecting you to be up and walking so soon."

Stephanie raised a brow. "I don't know what you mean."

Diesel chuckled and walked into the kitchen, returning a moment later with a beer. "Of course you do. You didn't come back last night and you've got The Look."

"The Look?" You could hear the capital letters.

"Of a woman that got fucked all night long. And probably some this morning." He dropped next to her on the couch, grabbing the remote and clicking on to OnDemand. She finished her slice, content to let that comment die where it stood, while Diesel sought out Robot Chicken.

As the Les Claypool theme song picked up its creepy, jaunty little tune, Diesel returned his attention to her.

"So, you did get fucked all night, right?" he asked, his face creased in a smile.

"Jeez, yeah, fine. Like that's the important part." She gave him a dark glare as she took another swallow of beer.

"You must be talking about the big emotional reunion." She felt her glare go from 'dark' to 'Burg'. "That went well, then?"

Stephanie hated that it was near impossible to be angry with Diesel. He'd told her once it had something to do with him being cute and cuddly, and that those things made it alright. It didn't hurt that he smelled like Christmas, cookies, and sex.

Letting go of her mostly-feigned anger, Stephanie leaned back into the couch cushions and sipped her beer, feeling herself go a little dreamy as she remembered the previous night and that morning. "Yup."

"Just 'yup'? That's it?"

"You want a play-by-play of all the mushy exchanges of 'I love you' and blah, blah, blah? Because they were mushy and wonderful and I'd be happy to go on and on about it, although I thought I'd be sharing that moment with Mary Lou." She turned her head against the cushion to look at him. "I didn't think you'd be interested. Mission, successful should cover it."

Diesel gave her the dimples and hooked an arm around her neck, dragging her against his side. "It's cool that I was kinda hoping he'd fall through so you could abuse me in his place, though, right?"

"You want me bad." She grinned back at him and waggled her brows.

"You bet. I'll live, though." He knocked his beer bottle against hers. "I have a fertile imagination."

Stephanie laughed and settled in to watch dirty cartoons.

"Thanks for being here for me, Diesel," she said a while later. His arm tightened around her companionably.

"Any time, Honey."

"I owe you one."

"You know better than that," he replied, his voice gently chiding.

"Better than what?" she asked.

"You've heard this before and it's true with me too; no price."

#

Ranger tumbled the locks on Stephanie's door and let himself into her apartment. He could hear the television and moved quietly into the room. The only noise he'd made had been from the locks but Stephanie always knew when he was near.

"Come sit with me," she called, still facing the TV.

Ranger kicked off his boots and removed his gun belt before sitting on the couch and pulling Stephanie to his side, lowering his face to capture her lips in a warm, welcoming kiss.

"Babe," he greeted her, stroking her cheek.

Stephanie snuggled into his side, lifting her legs to rest across his thighs. He pulled her closer so she was fully in his lap and kissed her some more, taking his time, wrapping her curls around his fingers.

"Missed you," she whispered against his mouth. "All day."

"I was rushing to get back to you," he admitted and it wasn't even difficult to say.

"How'd it go with Diesel?" he asked, brushing kisses across her jaw, the tip of her nose, her eyelids. He liked the way her lashes fluttered against his lips when he did that, so he did it again, lingering gently.

"Went good. He decided to go check out the French Riviera. Something about nude beaches and palm trees." She was nibbling on his jaw now, working her way to his mouth.

"What was he here for? You never did say." Diesel as a subject was becoming less interesting by the second, but he still wondered.

"He's on vacation and decided to drop by," she answered, licking the corner of his mouth with the very tip of her tongue.

"Vacation," Ranger mused, mirroring her movements and touching his tongue to her mouth. "Mmm, that sounds good." Then he dropped the subject and put all his effort into the one he was really interested in: Stephanie.

And they lived dangerously ever after.

#

**YO:** The shortest chapter, but it's more epilogue than chapter, so I hope you'll forgive it. Because the pathos was over, I decided to make Stephanie's talks with Santos and Diesel nice and easy, but there was character-rationalization involved. Santos does well because I don't want a heart broken Lester for his FF (which is just about ready to be posted;). Diesel handled it well because even though he wants in Stephanie's pants, he's only emotionally attached on a friendship level. I can easily picture Ranger being relationship material for the right woman, but Diesel... He's a different animal. I still gotta find a way to write him some smut, though. I'll let my plot bunnies play and maybe they'll come up with something for a panty-ruining one or two shot.

So, there it is, the end of _Plum Dirty_. I so hope you enjoyed it and that you'll check out Lester's continuing story in the upcoming _Santos Slide_. It's going to be OFC and will probably be similar in length to this.

So looking forward to your feedback. Thanks for coming along for the ride.

xoxo

Dejah Thoris


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